Death Doesn't Cover It
by Watertreker568
Summary: John wasn't the only one that regrets Jack leaving. But why did he leave? What problems will arise from those buried issues when John comes back? And how does Torchwood finally start to accept John as a fellow agent? Takes place in KKBB and AU Season Two. Janto Minor Jack/John. Rated M for a reason. John-Torchwood Agent, Surprise Pairing!
1. Prolouge

Death doesn't cover it

Summary: John wasn't the only one that regrets Jack leaving. But why did he leave? Why did the only person who could keep John in check leave him? And what problems will arise from those buried issues when John comes back? Takes place in KKBB. Jack X John (PAST/PRESENT), **Jack X Ianto (Main)**, Warnings: Implied sex, Mental Issues, Death (detailed), Self-injury, and mature themes. Rated M for a reason (well, it has John. THAT would be the reason).

A/N: What's scrambling around inside John's head during "Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang." Just because I thought everyone was making him just a little TOO soul-sucking. Jack might have had a… misguided choice in men, but I don't think he would've just willingly spent years of his life with a cold blooded murderer. Well, He might have, but John wouldn't be here to bitch about it. Also, there were clearly some deep emotions between the two of them, so it probably wasn't a one-way street when John said "I love you". Slightly AU… alright, VERY AU, 'cause I screw up most of season two. NO John-bashing. Although, a decent bit of Gwen-Bashing. Warnings: Jack X John, Implied sex, Mental Issues, Death (detailed), Self-injury, and mature themes. Don't like, Don't read. Don't like John, then you're reading the wrong fic.

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><p><em>John's shoulders wracked with soft tears. Jack stirred next to him, awakened by his partner's distress. John swallowed, regretting his lack of restraint. But still, the tears wouldn't stop. His mind's pleasure continued to play through his head, unable to be banished by anything.<em>

"_John?" Jack wondered sleepily. John rolled over, clasping his arms around the taller man's neck._

"_Jack." He moaned, his voice ragged from tears. "Make it stop. Please. Make it stop."_

"_Shh," Jack tried to soothe, running his fingers through John's short, light brown hair. "John, I'm right here. What's wrong? Com'on, you have to tell me. I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong."_

_John swallowed, freeing his voice just long enough to speak._

"_My – my dream. In my dream – the pain – it – it went away." John shuttered, barely suppressing another bone-wrenching sob. "The pain – it made it go away. Oh, gods, Jack. It made the pain go away."_

_Jack smiled softly, rubbing his hands gently over John's back, trying to soothe him. "Shh… John. It's alright. It was just a dream."_

"_But – It – It felt – so – so real" John finally confessed, prompting another small smile from Jack._

"_But it made the pain stop. John, I thought that was what you were looking for?" Jack's voice was now laced with confusion, demanding questions be answered before any solution would be found. "_

"_I thought that was good John."_

_There. Those fatal words had been said. John snapped, losing any meager restraint he had in a wave of acid flowing through his veins. Good? Had Jack just said that? GOOD? _

"_I – I" John gasped for breath, pleading that he would be able to block the bridge connecting their minds long enough to say it. Jack sensed the new wall in his consciousness. His brow furrowed with confusion, and he held John tighter._

"_John? Com'on, tell me what's wrong?"_

"_I – I" John swallowed, before finally meeting Jack's eyes._

"**I killed you."**

A week later, Jack left.

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><p>Reviews make me feel warm &amp; Fuzzy!<p>

And write faster! That's important too!


	2. Chapter One

Chapter one:

John groaned, taking in the scene before him as he stepped through the time vortex. Death still clung to him form the last person he had killed, making him feel vile, unclean. And where did he end up? In the middle of fucking Cardiff! Of all the places on the planet for there to be a Rift, it had to be in Wales. Silently, John wondered if he would get killed for being here. Wait, no. The 21st century was when IRELAND was being rebellious. Wales still had another century or two. That reassurance made him feel just the slightest bit better. He was still in Cardiff, and he still smelled like corpses. Great. Brilliant way to start the night.

Over the deafening chatter of the city, he heard someone shout. Rolling his eyes, John followed the voice, standing – either intrigued or mildly disgusted, he wasn't sure which came to mind first – while two men apparently were getting in each other's pants on the side of a car.

'Isn't this supposed to be the year where… oh, no. that was with Clinton. But still… that's legal? What did the agency screw up this time?' He wondered, trying to recall exactly when homophobia had been outed as weird. Then, he saw the knife.

"I ain' Joking!" The man holding the knife practically begged. "Come any closer I'll open up his neck." John rolled his eyes for the third (and certainly not last) time that night.

'oh, for all the patience of the goddesses…'

The man pinned against the car looked surprisingly calm for someone who was about to have their throat torn out. John sighed, continuing to approach the pair. Why did it always have to be his job to clean up after the cops? Honestly?

"Fine." John shrugged. It wasn't his job to look after the inhabitants of whatever planet he found himself on. That was what got him in trouble in the first place. The man's eyes went wide, his rouse completely dropped.

"WHAT?"

"Which artery do you normally sever?" John asked nonchalantly, already having several good answers come to mind. The carotid artery would be the quickest, but it would leave one hell of a mess on whatever poor saps car it was. Jugular vein would leave a smaller puddle, but that would also take longer to die from. Or, he could just snap his neck. No blood, no weapon… yeah. Broken neck would be the best way to go about it.

"I ain' bluffin'!" The Welsh brat continued to fake, though it was pretty blatantly obvious that he had no intention of harming the other man.

"Now, you see," John finally spoke, having gotten tired of the kids whining. "I can tell you're bluffing right there." Now that he was closer, he could tell that the pair were just teens. Did they ever learn to not screw around? Then again, he hadn't been exactly the model student either, but that wasn't _Entirely_ his fault. The kid next to him in languages had honestly been asking for it. It wasn't his fault that the place they picked happened to be the Janitors closet. Mostly.

"Only someone who isn't serious would say they were more than once. So…" John grabbed the kid by the throat, pulling him off his feet, "You really weren't going to hurt him, were you?" The boy gasped, trying to breathe around John's solid grip. He shook his head, terror branding itself over him like a label. That fear was just enough to pull back John's mental restraints, letting out the one thing he had just barely been able to keep in check. The dissatisfied clawing at the back of his mind grew more prominent, with the potential of ending another beings life placed in his hands. John snarled internally, but the desire just would not subside. Slowly, painfully, it took control of his movement.

John became nothing more than a side show attraction as his body became fully controlled by his other half. The darker, scarier side of John hart – the part of him that never had problems with doing just what the agency asked of him, and finding himself unable to regret it.

"Now, you shouldn't make threats like that, unless you're really able and willing to follow it through." John hefted the boy up, dangling him over the edge of the building. Carelessly, he glanced down towards the sidewalk, yards beneath the man's feet.

"Please." The Kid gasped, struggling to keep from slipping out of John's grasp. "Please. I swear, it was just a joke. Promise. We won't do it again. Just put me down!"

John paused, considering this for a second. Then, he let go. The boys limp body impacted the concrete below him, ending the scream that had just started to fill the air. Coldly, John watched the broken body lying on the pavement for a few moments, the blood trickling out from beneath the corpse, the pure look of terror permanently ingrained in the boy's features.

Immediately, John's body reacted. He gasped, leaning back against the wall for support. Weakly, he pressed his arm into his stomach, afraid to let it slip to the real origin of the pain. He had been expecting this. The pain, the sudden reaction of his body. There was always pain, no matter what. But this time, it was minor. It was the kind of pain he could deal with.

Rolling up his sleeve, John snapped out a knife. He had to… he needed to know.

After three, the ache in his lower body had subsided, dissipating.

John sniffed, swallowing the bile rising from his stomach back, along with his tears. There was one person he would have gone to in the past when this happened, but he had been abandoned. He didn't need any other explanation, other than he wasn't wanted.

As if sensing what he needed, a small light on his VM began flashing. John stared, amazed at the pattern that emerged. It couldn't be… He was supposed to be dead. His locator had disappeared, there was no way. Not Right here. Not in the bloody 21st century. No Bloody Way…

And yet the pattern continued to flash, signaling one thing-

He had found Jack.


	3. Chapter Two

Death Doesn't Cover It

Océane: The usual warnings. Do I really need to go into them? M-for-a-reason, duh (John)

John: Why do I have to be the -

Océane (Holding hand over John's mouth): shut up! Do you want to give away the whole plot?

John: *Mutter around hand*—iunhinkso… (Removes hand). Fine. I won't talk about… (Océane raises hand, now wielding duct-tape)

Océane: I am SO not afraid to use this dude, so stuff it.

John: (Grumbles faint curses) Just get to that part of the story so I can bitch about Gwen.

Océane: It would be my pleasure to type that. Anyway, I don't own Torchwood, all I own is the plot. (wistful thinking about if she did own Torchwood)

John: Okay… Here's what this little demon's been up to over the past week. Don't like Don't Read.

Océane (from the future): Wait! I need to tell you something you've gotta put in here.

John: Brilliant. Let's have a party now.

Océane(s): shut up! We were talking!

Océane (future): anyway… John talking inside his head will be in _'Italics' _John talking to Jack mentally is in []. Jack talking mentally to John is in {}

John: ha! Jack gets the girly braces!

Océane (present): you hold him down, and I'll use the tape.

Océane (future): deal.

John: ah! (cowers in fear) alright, alright! I'll behave! I'LL BEHAVE!

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><p>Chapter Two: None–Too–Happy Reunions<p>

John sighed, gazing around the now – empty bar. It had taken awhile for him to find his way here, but he was glad he had. The place was quiet, not too close to center-city, but still within the city limits. Not many people would come here, especially after he had … disposed of the rest of the crowd.

But not in the way anyone would think, knowing him. He had just scared most of them off. Carrying two fifty first century pistols had that effect on people. Especially when he announced it VERY loudly. Though, no one had complained while leaving – unless screams counted, but John didn't think they did. No dead bodies counted as "out of character" for him.

Satisfied that no one was watching, John opened a link to the only VM within range. Jack's.

His blooming heart fell stone dead as his message went straight to record, the 51st equivalent of voicemail. Jack didn't care about him, did he? _'Maybe he just doesn't know I'm alive'_ John though, allowing the smallest ballooning of hope to grow.

He opened his mouth, starting to make a comment on the waiting record, but snapped his jaw shut almost immediately. What was he supposed to say?

"oh, sorry that I almost got you killed, would you mind If we started up again?" Jack would probably shoot him. Non-lethally.

"Hey, Yeah. Not dead here. PLEASE, bored, lonely, need friend." Again, likely death would follow.

"SOS. Get the Hell over here before I stalk you" umm… No. Just leaving that comment at no.

Finally, John spoke aloud.

"Hey, Jack. I suppose I'm just not that important, if all I'm getting is your voicemail." Suddenly, he remembered the body he had left lying on the street. He could tell Jack… what? "Sorry about the body. Just couldn't keep myself from it. I suppose that's all I ever am. One damn huge mistake after another." He longed to add another comment, _'starting with being born'_, but there could be someone else listening.

"Anyway, you've probably tracked my signal by now. I'll be here for a while. Don't hurry."

Immediately, John regretted saying that. Knowing his former partner, Jack would take as much time as possible dealing with the body.

Little did he know, the second Jack received the message, he dropped everything going on (including the body), and followed him. Leaving behind him a very confused team.

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><p>John slumped in a corner of the abandoned bar, the darkest one he could find. To him, it felt like hours had passed since he had called Jack, and each second had left him feeling just a little more abandoned, lonely, ignored. Meekly, John glanced up at the clock over the battered counter. He blinked, astonished by the trick his mind had played on him.<p>

Only five minutes had passed since his message to Jack. Those five minutes felt like an eternity. He sighed, shuddering. Slowly, John rested his forehead against his knees, unwilling to move. Pain spread over his body form his arm, but he refused to give it heed. Why did time drag out for him? No one even knew where he was anymore, Hell, John didn't even know. He had just wandered around, paying no attention to the streets or places near him.

What if Jack was dead? What if his VM was just spat out here by the rift? What if he didn't care? John's heart started to break at these thoughts. Jack was the one who had made him better, who had always made him better. It was all too likely that he didn't care about him anymore. No one else did. No one else had a reason to. Why should Jack be different?

If only he knew, at that very moment, Jack was breaking every driving law known to man.

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><p>The sound of the Bar door opening, then swinging shut jarred John out of his mind. Groaning, he raised his head just the slightest. Footsteps pounded in the silence, too quiet to be heard if John had been breathing. Blood rushed to his head, rage boiling up from the very pits of his stomach.<p>

They had found him. The Time Agency had come back, refusing to let him leave.

'_Why can't I be allowed to live a normal life?'_ he wondered, defeat beating down his anger before it spread. _'Why did they do this to me?'_ the footsteps approached, dropping lead into his stomach. _'Why me?' _

"John."

John's head snapped up faster than if he had been struck. His heart pounded, blood, emotions and memories turbulently flooding every cell of his body as his eyes widened, coming to rest on the newcomer in the room.

'_Please, please, please,'_ he begged silently, seconds elongating while he stared, a mixture of shock, amazement, horror, and hope covering him in a blanket. _'please, Ishith*, please, don't let this be a dream.' _If it was, the fates had sent him pain instead of mercy, and he never wanted to wake up in Faliken's cruel grasp.

Jack's eyes were wide with shock, locked with John's. John's heart raced, any thoughts that should have been passing through his mind wiped clear by joy.

With weak knees, he stood, still gazing at the man he had thought was dead. He fought to stay standing, his body weak from hours of moping.

'_That's a lie.'_ His own voice echoed through his head. _'You very well know it's because you haven't eaten since-'_

John snapped the twig of a voice in his mind. Jack opened his mouth, as if to speak, but no sound came out. John smiled weakly, praying that it looked convincing.

"Jack?" he managed to choke out, around the block in his chest. Jack nodded, his eyes watering.

"John… I …" Jack's voice faded away, unable to carry the sound of his words. John bit his lip, his legs moving towards his – what was Jack? His ex? His lover? A friend? Were they even on the same side anymore? What if…

All of John's insecurities were silenced as Jack's lips met his. Suddenly, there was no more world. The Time Agency ceased to exist, as did anything other than the second they were in. John could feel Jack pushing towards him, bending his mental barriers to gain access to their numb link. John tore down the walls he had formed, to protect himself form the chill of their broken mind-link. Warmth spread through him as Jack explored every corner of his mind, becoming re-aquatinted with him. John bloomed inside, feeling thoughts pour over into his mind.

{I'm Sorry.} Jack muttered, reluctant to use his voice. John pushed the shyness invading him back, refusing to believe that the Jack he knew was actually saying that.

[I missed you.] John responded, changing the topic slightly. Jack raised an eyebrow, doubt and waves of unsure assumptions gliding through the re-formed link. He rolled his eyes, sending his own emotions over, as a reassurance that he actually was. [I thought you were dead.]

Jack grinned, heating John to an almost unbearable -but not all that uncomfortable- temperature.

{Well then…}

John pushed Jack away, glaring at him. Before he realized it, Jack had nearly cuffed him upside the head.

* * *

><p>About twenty minutes and a violent-but-playful fight, John leaned back against the bar, Jack pressed comfortably against his side. Reluctantly, he started a conversation.<p>

"Soooo…" He trailed off, smacking himself mentally. _'Great, I deadpanned after, what, two syllables?'_

{I wouldn't call it _Deadpanning_… per say.} Jack's voice startled John for a moment, before he remembered their re-formed mind-link.

[Shit. You heard that?]

{Hey! You finally figured out how to do "?" over a mind-link. I'm - }

Jack didn't have a chance to finish his facetious statement, because John had thrown up his barriers again. Jack sighed, as John stood up, groaning while he out distance between himself and Jack. His body couldn't take much more of anything, but it wasn't going to get any rest. The best he could do was separate from the other person in the room.

"John," Jack sighed, standing so as not to lose sight of him, as John stood on the other side of the bar. "I was joking. Alright? I didn't Know"

"No, you didn't." John snapped back. Jack closed his mouth, suddenly becoming fascinated with his shoes. John rolled his eyes. Jack was too cute when he looked embarrassed. It probably was banned by the Shadow Proclamation at one point. Taking a deep breath, John contemplated what he was going to say before he spoke.

"Jack… I didn't mean it like THAT." But did he? Didn't he always blame Jack for everything that had happened, for leaving? Didn't he blame Jack for the pain getting worse? [No, that's my fault. I deserved it.]

Jack didn't respond visibly to the leak-through from John, but his emotions darkened. He sighed, dropping his head into his waiting hands.

"Great…"

"What?" John wondered, gazing intently at the top of Jack's head. Jack groaned, worrying him. Jack only sounded like that if he really was hurt.

[Jack?] John prodded gently, not wanting to provoke another wrestling match; no matter how playful, it still hurt to be smacked against a wall. [Jack? Are you alright?]

{Yeah, I'm fine.} Jack replied grudgingly. It was amazing how many different emotions the man could express without vocal chords. John shook his head, as Jack straightened up, his trademark grin in place.

"So… How's the agency doing?"

"Just. Bloody. Brilliant." John grumbled, reluctant to speak further. But he knew from experience, that that wouldn't help anything. Jack had methods… John shuttered at the memory of the last time. Tickling was just **Evil**.

"You HAVE to tell me more than that." Jack whined. "Someone told me it got shut down."

John snorted. [I WISH.]

{So their still up and running?}

[Unfortunately.]

{BRILLIANT.}

[You can say that sarcastically again.]

{Fine. Just Fucking BRILLIANT.}

[Hey -]

{I know, it's amazing. I used the naughty "F" word. Bad Jack.}

[Actually, I was going to get you a present for losing your cursing innocence.]

{Only you would celebrate that.}

[I wish. Remember? You have a party when you first have sex on my planet. A whole celebration for Ynide and the non-virginal kid. Remember?]

{You're culture is screwed up. Have I ever told you that?}

[Only once a day.]

{Well, it is.}

[Gee, thanks.]

John rolled his shoulders, wincing as his sleeve rubbed over the tender skin on the inside of his arm. He winced slightly, attracting Jack's attention. Immediately, the former Agent's eyes scrutinized his arm. Jack's eyes narrowed, as he realized what John was hiding.

{John…}

[I told you.] He sneered back. Jack stared at him, and John felt his face flush. [I really am sorry about the kid.]

"How did rehab go?" Jack wondered suddenly. John felt a fain blush crawling up his neck. _'Damn it. I was hoping he wouldn't bring that up…'_

"Rehabs, actually. Plural. As in four."

"Four?" Jack sounded genuinely surprised, which amused John. Like anyone would actually expect him to keep clean. Especially when left unattended.

"Yeah. Four." John smiled wickedly. "Drugs, alcohol, sex, and…" He debated adding the last one, but the slightest glare joined Jack's expression, daring him to screw around. "And murder. Happy?"

"Did it work?"

{Oh, god, John. Why didn't you tell me they-}

"Oh, yeah. Completely. I'm clean as when I was born."

'_Which is not very much.'_ [And what the hell would you've done about it? Tell me that!]

{I – I – I honestly have no idea, but…}

[Yeah, well then stuff it.]

"I told you, I'm clean. Sober as a monk.

{You sure about that?} Jack raised an eyebrow in question, as John fiddled with a piece of broken glass lying on the counter.

[Well, Yeah.] Jack glared at him. [Alright, except for the last… two.]

{John!} His back stiffened at the way his ex said his name. _'Yeah. EX. Because that's what we are. EX-Lovers. Nothing left here for me.'_

[What? Jack, shut up. You lost the right to talk to me like that after-] John gave up what he was trying to say, throwing up a set of double barriers. Jack would be able to get through the first, if he put his mind to it, but not the second – that was the one John had constructed during his high-school years. Nothing could get through it.

"So… umm…" Jack coughed, clearly trying to lighten the mood, or at least change the topic. "You never answered me about the Agency."

John blinked, unsurprised when Jack broke through his first barrier, planting one comment before leaving.

{Or, more specifically, You…}

"Yeah, the program basically shut down. There aren't many of us left." John shrugged, watching Jack's face for a reaction. Was it possible that Jack still gave a damn? No, that would imply they had ever had anything, and jack proved that theory wrong when he walked out.

{How many?}

"Seven." He responded, refusing to answer mentally. That would require give in Jack access to what was going on in his mind. And there was no way John was going to do that again. The last person had turned out bad enough.

{Oh, god, John. They want you back, don't they? Gods, why did… I should never have… I – what happened? How the hell did you -}

[Yes! They want me back, alright? The agency doesn't quite want to give up their assassin ring yet, alright? And they want you dead. They gave ME the order!]

Jack stood silent for a moment, as John realized what he had done. _'Shit.'_ Not only had he torn down the strongest barrier he had, he had told Jack… he could never go home. Neither of them could. Ever. It would be suicide.

"John" {John} Jack spoke verbally and in John's mind, after regaining his voice.

"I'm fine."

John shuddered, trying to forget the day he had gotten those instructions. [The Agency was pretty pissed at you. They have a thing against people who screw around with their free assassins ring. Especially their "Perfectly groomed" child. If only they knew the half of it.]

{Which half of it?}

"Mine." [Mine]

John snorted at the memory. They had raised him, told him 'he would do great things for humanity in the future', then set him loose on society. Homicidal maniacs.

'_Great, now I'm being hypocritical.'_

{John, it isn't-}

[Yes it bloody is! Did you forget the body I left I the street?]

Jack glanced down, an almost invisible blush crawling up his neck.

"How bad did it get?"

"That time?" John wondered, understanding immediately what Jack meant. The other man nodded slightly, and John sighed. "Three. Not that bad."

{But what about all the other times?}

John grimaced, wishing he didn't have to answer that question. He sighed, but then remembered the shard of glass he clutched in his hand.

Before Jack could stop him, he clutched the shard like a knife, using it to slit open the palm of his left hand. Jack stared, no surprise anywhere on his face, just pure, disbelief at the symbol. John held up his hand, calmly stating,

"Worse than."

Jack sighed, taking John's injured hand in both of his.

"John. I – I'm sorry. I had no clue that it would get that bad."

John snorted. "Yeah. No one does typically." Jack looked ready to cry, as John immediately regretted what he had said. "Sorry." He muttered.

"John, we should get you help."

"Like you can!" John laughed at the suggestion. "Jack, I'm BEYOND help."

"John." Jack groaned, taking his former partner's hand once more. "You can get HELP now. It's legal. There's meds and things that help…"

"It won't work." John snapped, trying to pull his hand away. "And I don't want them anyway."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "What happened to your half of it? I'll tell you, you are not the same man I left."

"Right. I think that's the point."

Jack sighed. "John, please." John grimaced, allowing Jack the slightest attention. "At least let me look at your hand. Please."

Reluctantly, John allowed Jack to examine his hand. He winced slightly as Jack applied pressure to the sides of the cut, but it was tolerable. While he was working, Jack attempted to start a conversation.

"So, the Agency sent you to Murder Rehab?"

"Yeah. Ridiculous, I know, but… what can you do."

{Why do you think they did it?}

[Not a single clue. Maybe they were just pissed off, and wanted me hurt so I'd behave.] Jack raised an eyebrow, wrapping John's fingers tightly in a bandage he had foraged out of some pocket in his coat. [It wouldn't help me, and they knew that. All that place did was…]

Jack looked up, his eyes stating death. {What? What did they do?}

John smiled weakly. [Nothing that you have to worry about, alright?] John reached up, gently brushing Jack's hair back behind his ear. [You hear me? I'm fine. It's just the past. It's nothing you need to worry about Jack.]

Jack's smile broadened, and he nuzzled up against John's hand. John had to laugh, combing his fingers through the other's dark hair. "You still like that?" Jack nodded, grinning wickedly at John. He laughed again. "You always were one for petting. So clearly you haven't changed."

Jack practically purred in John's mind, displaying his pleasure with vivid flashes of colors and images. Two in particular stood out to John, but he made on comment. Was that… no, they were supposed to be extinct… right?

"But… John, if you won't get help…" Jack swallowed, then choked out his next sentence. "I need you to leave."

John stopped dead, disbelieving. Did Jack just tell him… to get out?

"Wow." He breathed. John was stunned. So, as usual, he resorted to the tactic of sarcasm. "I can't say I saw that one coming. Wanna' tell me why I'm being segregated?"

"I have people I care about John. I can't have them hurt." John opened his mouth to comment, but Jack continued talking. "Even if you don't mean to be, You're dangerous. I've seen it. You've lost your control."

[Not all of it.]

{But enough.}

[So… what you're saying is that I have to choose.] John sighed. [Choose between keeping who I've been all my life, and staying here… with You.]

Jack nodded. {I'm sorry. But it's my JOB to protect this city. I can't just let you go running around in your current state.}

[I understand.] John swallowed, his eyes meeting the floor. [I – I can understand why you wouldn't want me around.]

{John… I didn't mean it quite like that. I – I just meant that there are people I care about, and their safety comes before anything else.} He paused for a minute, then continued. {Besides, I thought you wanted to get better? Why the sudden mood change?}

[I – I just realized that this is what I was born to do. That's the only reason I'm not dead like -] John felt tears welling in his eyes, but he swallowed them, instead staring at Jack. [I don't know anything else.]

Jack paused, absorbing this information, before he commented. {Alright. But if it sways you in any way, one of my co-workers does things to a suit that should be illegal.}

John laughed. [Like you and that damn coat. When the hell did you end up in WWII?]

{Longest story of your life}

John laughed once more, leaning closer to ruffle Jack's already decimated hair.

"So you keep telling me."

Jack grinned, the only time John had direct déjà-vu in his presence. There was the cheeky teenager he had fallen in love with. He leaned even closer over the bar, intent on capturing Jack's lips in a smothering kiss, but seconds before their lips met once more… they were interrupted.

* * *

><p>Océane: So… whatcha' think? Love it?<p>

John: Hate it? (Please?)

Océane: Pessimist… anyway, two points to whoever guesses what (or WHO) the interruption was! (No checking your notes!)

John: Whatever.

Océane: I'm tempted to kill you off…. Anyway! I love reviews! They make me fuzzy inside!

John: or… Review and I won't kill you!

Océane: That's so mean! No. Review and I'll give you cake. Or a cookie. Or Janto! Pick your poison.

John: I'd typically go with arsenic…

Océane: It's a FIGURE of SPEECH! That's it… I've revoked your Jack-kissing Privileges. No more making out with Jack for two chapters!

John: meanie.


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Océane: I kicked John out. He made my Author's Notes WAY Too long. And, He's sort-of grounded… Anyway, The typical warnings; Sex, Death, Guy/Guy making out (Though none for John, he's been bad.) Jack and John CAN talk to each other telepathically, so, Jack is {…}, and John is […]. This has **Nothing** to do with their Personalities! (They're the only two brackets I have on my Keyboard.)

Jack: This is mostly Janto, but I occasionally get a wild hair and misbehave with John. Don't kill me for it; I just got back from YNW. (AKA the Year That Never Was. Watch Doctor Who if you're confused.)

Océane: I was going to ask who invited you… Never mind. I don't own anything except what's going on in John's head. Literally, I copied much of the lines from the Episode. This is just the "Behind the scenes" Version. Oh, and I don't own the song "Atomic", by Blondie.

Jack: ? What? Do I want to know how you fit that in?

Océane: Ohhh, sit down my little character and watch how THAT happens.

Jack: OK… Don't like, Don't Read. Don't Like John, it's the wrong fic. Don't like anyone except Gwen, I advise you leave and watch something your parents **would **approve of. *cough*Cough*Barbie®*cough*

Océane: Anyway… Here's the fic! Please Review!

* * *

><p>Annoying Explanations<p>

Their lips were inches apart, and Jack's eyes were half closed, as if expecting nothing less than to be enthralled by John once more. The door slammed, revealing a group of strangers. Immediately, the once peaceful scene was thrown into chaos. John growled, the sound emanating deep from the back of his throat. Jack's eyes widened slightly, fearful of what John might do.

{John – Don't!}

[I can handle it.] John snapped, repressing the voice that was coming back into his head.

'_Kill them. They ruined your chance at getting Jack back! Kill them! No one will miss them. You can drug Jack so he forgets, and everything'll be fine. Just kill them. NOW!'_

'_I – I can't. It's not right. I can't. I'm not supposed to. But goddesses I'm mad. Why the hell did they have to come in right now?'_

'_Exactly. That's why you should get rid of them. They interrupted where they weren't wanted.'_

'_But… that – I couldn't. No.'_

'_You only have to kill one of them. Just shoot one of them, and the rest of them will scatter like drops of water.'_

'_More like drops of blood…'_

{John!}

John was snapped out of his furious internal debate by Jack's sudden call.

[What?] He wondered, before his eyes met those of the newcomers. [Shit.]

He added that last expletive after some part of his brain connected four and C-day… Namely those four faces… and first contact. This was the first time John regretted actually paying attention in history.

[Shit. Shit, shit, shit. ]

{I'd tell ya' to say that again, but… you already have four times.}

John rolled his eyes, as Jack groaned quietly. Something about Jack's behavior told him that his former partner knew these four… and probably not from their textbook.

[Hey Jack… you know them?] John wondered, just as one of the future-celebrities spoke.

"Jack! We've been so worried about you! You just ran off, without saying anything!"

{And I think that answers your question, John…}

Jack turned around, sighing as he did so. John stared at the dark blue of Jack's shirt. Funny, he mused. John had never seen Jack in blue… he always wore green or tans, sometimes black, but…never blue. It was a little like observing a new breed of plant. You never expect it, but it still worked. And blue worked Very well for Jack. Better than his coat did, even.

"Gwen…" Jack half-sighed, half-moaned, and half not-quite-chewing-you-out-but-damn-close(d). "I told you that it was something-"

[Gee, thanks. I'm a thing.]

{Stuff it}

[Oh, in your kinkiest dreams Harkness.]

{Gods…}

"-SOMEONE I had to take care of. And I explicitly told you NOT to follow me, didn't I?"

'Gwen' nodded meekly, resulting in a cocky little smile from Jack.

"So… did you go deaf while I was gone?"

[Oh, she isn't just this stupid normally?]

{I dare you to say that out loud.}

[Fine]

"Oh, she isn't just this stupid normally?" John repeated his question, this time aloud for all to hear.

{John!} Jack visibly choked back laughter, rolling his eyes. {Gods! It was a rhetorical suggestion.}

[But you were thinking it.]

{… True.}

John spared a second to glance at the woman deemed 'Gwen.' She stood, back ramrod straight, as if he had just physically slapped her. John watched in amusement as her mouth opened slightly, and she stared at Jack, expecting him to do something. But nothing was done.

[Please, Jack. Please, please, PLEASE tell me you didn't hire a priss.]

Gwen finally seemed to have recovered her voice. "Jack! You had just left us alone for over THREE months! I – We didn't want you to disappear again!"

John raised one eyebrow, leaning towards Jack over the Bar.

"You were MIA for three months?" Jack nodded slightly. "Remind me to ask you about that later."

{Please don't.} Jack begged silently, refusing to meet his eyes.

[Why not?] John wondered, suddenly very confused. The slightest touches of darkness had tinges the edges of Jack's thoughts, and that worried John. He had never felt that form him since… since he had almost died. [What happened?]

{You don't want – or need – to know. Just don't ask me about it. Ever.}

Jack finally met John's eyes, and he almost fell over. The rims of Jack's blue eyes were laced with faint tears, as if he had just lost a part of him. Meekly, John nodded, consenting to that minor concession.

[Alright. But if you ever want to -]

{I won't. Thanks anyway.}

'_You're welcome.' _John grumbled silently to himself, as the other people in the bar stole a piece of his attention once more.

"John… this would be my… umm… team that I was talking about." Jack half-introduced him to the group. John rolled his eyes, climbing over the bar.

'_Great… they're his team.'_ He thought, before grinning. _'Maybe I can scare them off.'_

"Great, you've got a team." He beamed. "How SWEET… oh, and they're pretty little friends too. But no blonde though. You really should have a blonde." His grin widened as Jack groaned quietly. Ha! His evil plot to get revenge was working.

[Are you going to apologize for giving me the run-around with the WWII story?]

"God, He's worse than Jack." One of the team members groaned. John smirked, his eyes flashing between Jack and the man that had spoken. Honestly, the guy looked like he hadn't managed a decent night's sleep in a week… or more.

[Hey, Jack… how clingy are your team members?]

{Very… Why?}

['Cause the guy that just muttered under his breath looks like an insomniac who's high off his -]

{I'll explain THAT later.}

John sighed, reluctant to let the topic die like that, but… he still had innocent welsh to scare. And personal preference aside, that was just WAY too good of an opportunity to pass up.

"Do you have a team name? I love team names. C'mon." He begged, watching for Jack's aggravated reaction. Instead, He just sighed.

"Torchwood."

Fuck.

"Oh." John responded, slightly disappointed and Very shocked. " Not Excalibur? Uh, Blizzard? Bikini Cops? No? Torchwood. Oh dear."

[Jack! What. The. Fuck. You had better have one hell of an explanation to spout.]

{I know! I Know, I Know, I Know, I Know, I Know, ALRIGHT?}

[But it's Bloody Fucking Torchwood for the love of Fucking HELL Jack! They do nothing but Kill people! They're -]

{The 21st century equivalent of the Time Agency. Yes, I know. I'll give you the history lesson in a little, okay?}

[I will hold you to that.]

Jack sighed, finally bothering to introduce everyone. "Gwen Cooper. Ianto Jones…"

{He's the one that does bad things to a suit; in the case you haven't noticed John.}

[Oh, I definitely have.]

{NO touching allowed.}

"…Toshiko Sato. Owen Harper. Meet-"

"Captain John Hart." John smiled innocently – well, as innocently as he could in the situation.

Jack sighed, again.

[That's nine within an hour. I have GOT to have won an award for something.]

{Brilliant. Now, John, be quiet.}

[Prude.]

{I would make a comment…}

"We go back." Was the only explanation Jack offered to the others. John snorted.

"Excuse me. We more than go back. We were partners."

One of the People's back stiffened slightly. It took John a couple seconds to play "match the face with the not-so-important-name" with himself, before he finally remembered that he was "Ianto"… or the Eye candy of the group. That would be easier to remember. He should suggest Jack have him change his name to that. It would be much easier to spell.

"In what way?" Eye candy wondered, glaring full-out at John. He grinned.

"In every way. And then some."

[I see you got a stalker.]

{He's not a stalker. He's my b-}

[I'm really hoping that that was going to be "Boyfriend". Because if you were about to say Biffle, I would've had to kill you as an imposter. Because the Jack I know and had sex with would have died before saying that.]

{It was Boyfriend.}

[Good.]

Jack rolled his eyes. "It was two weeks."

[Now you're in denial.]

{No I'm Not.}

John did something with his mouth. Whether it was a smile or grimace, he really couldn't tell. "Except the two weeks was trapped in a time loop so we were together for five years. It was like having a wife."

[Well, if you aren't counting the three years together in school,]

{Umm….}

"You were the wife." Jack confirmed, rolling his eyes despite his grin.

[Or the extra two years that we spent sharing an apartment after you decided to move in]

{…}

John shook his head. "Oh, No. _You_ were the wife."

[Or the fact that I stayed home to take care of you after you were shot instead of going after that guy like the Agency wanted…]

{Alright! I lied! Shoot me!}

Jack raised an eyebrow, playfully glaring at him. "No. You were the wife."

[I don't think I'll shoot you…]

{Thanks.}

John beamed, plotting his vengeance. "Oh, but I was a good wife."

[Maniacal laughter may now be placed here – Muahahahahah!]

{John, why do you abuse me?}

[Because it's fun.]

Now, it was the pretty Asian woman's turn to speak. And – Finally! – someone didn't hate him!

"I bet you were." Owen proceeded to glare at her like she was off her head. John smirked.

'_Ah, the human race…'_

"What? Pretend you haven't noticed he's cute."

Owen gave Tosh a look that made it very clear he didn't find John cute. Which was good, because Jack was the only person John let call him 'cute'.

John smirked at their clear discomfort. "They're just shy. Aren't they Jack?"

Jack glanced at him sideways. "Riiiiiight… would now be the time to mention that Owen doesn't go that way?"

"Yeup… only I wouldn't fuck him if I had to."

{John, I swear… one more word and I'll get the duct tape.}

John's grin widened just the slightest, making him seem feral.

{Gods, sometimes I regret the things I say.} Jack repented. {You know what, forget the duct tape. That threat is null and void.}

[What about Gaffa tape?]

{No, John. NO Gaffa Tape.}

[Packing tape? Masking tape? I could get painters tape if you wanted to…]

{NO! NO Tape!}

"Prude." John muttered, kicking absently at the leg of a chair.

"Jonathan… I swear…" Jack growled, his fists clenching.

"Ooh, the full name. I suppose a dramatic, 'oh, please captain forgive me' would be called for?"

John grinned when Jack rolled his eyes, sighed heavily, and smacked himself in the head.

"Remind me why you're here?" Even though he already knew.

"Well, for one, I actually want to keep your little town from blowing up."

THAT got Jack's attention.

* * *

><p>About a half an hour later, Jack had led him to the middle of the Roald-Dahl Plass. Half-way across, Jack stopped him.<p>

"What?" John asked, before he recognized the expression in Jack's eyes.

'_Shit. This will not be ending well.'_

"Let me see your arm." It was phrased lie a request, but John knew it was a blatant order. Reluctantly, he offered his arm to Jack. "The OTHER arm, John. I'm not stupid."

John sighed, rolling back the sleeve on his Left arm, before offering it to Jack for inspection. Jack winced at the sight of the marks on his skin. True to John's statement, there were three. And only three.

_So far. _

"John, we need to get this covered." Jack instructed, gesturing for John to sit on the curb. He hesitated, glancing around the Plass for anyone watching. Jack took his hand gently.

"John, it's fine. We're safe here. Everyone knows Cardiff is neutral ground because of the rift, so the Agency can't get you here. Now, will you please, sit down?"

John let out a breath he had no idea he had been holding. Finally, he sat down on the curb, watching with mute interest as Jack placed his bag down between them, rummaging through it until he came across the first-aid kid.

"This should work." He muttered apparently to himself, opening the container. John shifted, so that Jack would be able to bandage his arm.

Jack treated his wounds as gently as he could, wincing along with John whenever he detected the slightest sting of pain from their link. John just sat there in silence, trying to win a battle within himself.

Technically, he hadn't lied to Jack… But he had. He wasn't trying to Stop the bombs. Hell… that was a blatant lie. Should he tell Jack? No, then he would try to stop him, and if there was one thing John couldn't allow, it was anyone getting in the way. Plus, Jack had his team to worry about now. John couldn't risk something happening to Jack when he had just returned. That wouldn't be fair to any of them.

No. He had to do this on his own. If he had to knock all of them out to do it, then it would be for their own good.

But was he sure? Did he really want to do this, and now? He had barely had time to catch up with Jack. If he held off… then the cylinders would deactivate. No. He had to do this now. Alone, and Now.

"John, can I see your hand?" Jack requested, oblivious to the feud John had going on inside him. John blinked, confused for a moment, before he realized the bandage around the palm of his hand was red.

"Oh, ah… sure." He muttered, unwrapping the bandage from his hand. He winced slightly, not at the sight of his own blood, but at the clear representation of just how far from alright he was.

'_You actually did that to yourself? That's sickening.'_

'_Yeah, but I deserved it.'_ He got the slightest satisfaction out of seeing himself injured. Not the in the same way as seeing something else injured, but in a way that made his conscience tip the smallest bit more towards guilt-free. Though nothing would be able to balance the scales again.

'_Not yet.'_ John mused silently, watching some of his blood splash on the sidewalk, creating a horrifyingly intriguing pattern. _'But soon.'_

Soon, the universe would be balanced again.

"John," Jack whispered, gently spreading his fingers apart so the bandage would go on flat. "I – I'm sorry for what happened. After I left."

"It's fine." John shrugged, nonchalantly playing-down the horrors made all too real to him in the past year. "But I really did miss you."

Jack paused, cupping John's hand in both of his. "Something tells me that there was a lot more that happened than 'nothing you need to be concerned with.'"

John glanced down at his shoes, and bit his lip. Nothing could get him out of this situation, well, short of a miracle.

"Alright, babe, you really want to know?"

Jack sighed. "It doesn't matter what I want. I need to know if you want to talk about it."

"I – Jack…" John stumbled, trying to figure out how to say what he meant. Finally, he pried his hand out of Jack's grip, placing either of his hands on the sides of Jack's head. "Just… it's like you and those three months babe. I'm trying to forget it." Jack looked unsure, so John added one last, desperate attempt to calm him. "Look, babe… if you ever get ready to talk about it, then I'll tell you 'bout my time in rehab."

'_As if it could be called that.'_

Jack nodded, still seeming unconvinced, but allowing it. John relaxed, the pressure to talk taken off of him. When John replaced his hands in his lap, he blushed slightly.

"Sorry." He muttered, gesturing to the smear of blood he had left on the side of Jack's face. Jack smiled kindly, taking John's hand once more.

"It's fine John." He reassured him, shrugging. "I'm sure it'll wash off. What I'm really worried about is the fact that that cut hasn't stopped bleeding yet."

John swallowed, watching, transfixed as Jack nursed his slit palm. It was like watching an oxymoron work. Jack moved with the decisive actions of a trained agent, but was still gentle, smoothing creases out of the bandage with the slightest touch. Jack's lips pursed slightly, his mouth forming the smallest of frowns when a small stain of red appeared on the clean bandage. John shivered with pleasure as Jack's fingers trailed over his wrist, where the skin was still sensitive.

Jack glanced up, a question half formed on his tongue. Before he had a chance to speak, John had ensnared his lips in another blistering kiss. Jack placed a hand between them, but let it drop after a few seconds. John didn't push for anything – a fact that the voice in his head reprimanded him for.

'_This could very well be the last time you have a chance to kiss him – ever. Do you want to waste it on being nice?'_

'_But – Jack's pretty serious with Eye candy. I – I shouldn't.'_

'_The kid'll have another chance. You might not.'_

Fortunately, the decision was made for him, by Jack's earpiece.

Annoyed, Jack pulled away, answering.

"Yes?"

Despite the design, John could still hear the voice on the other side. It sounded like Owen. This theory was confirmed when he spoke.

"Oi, Jack! Stop tonguing your Ex and get down here. Some of us are actually doing things."

Jack rolled his eyes. {Yes MOTHER…}

John Laughed. [Be glad he isn't. Then your DNA would have been completely screwed up, and you wouldn't be this hot.]

"Alright Owen, We'll be down in a little while. Live with it."

Jack grinned at him now, beginning to stand. "I guess if you want to be the one to kill me first, we should get going."

John smiled weakly, grasping Jack's offered hand to haul himself to his feet.

"So, wanna' tell me why we're out here instead of going in the normal way?"

Jack grinned. "Besides us having a little private time without the kids? 'Cause this is the tourist entrance."

John raised an eyebrow, following Jack – surprisingly – about three feet.

"I remember the last time you said that."

"So do I. Let's not go there." Jack practically begged, gesturing for John to stand next to him. "I think you'll bed interested in this. You being the little geek you are."

"Right. Me and Geek in the same sentence. Never thought you'd survive saying that."

"Why, you'd kill me?"

"No, but Kothyd might."

"She's supposed to be the goddess of… umm…"

John Laughed. "Intellect. But you won't be quizzed on it."

"Right." Jack grinned. "How could I have lived with you for all that time and not been converted?"

"Not a clue." John shrugged, taking Jack's hand. "You're just thick."

"I think I'm supposed to be insulted."

"Yeah. That would be the point."

Jack grinned, squeezing John's fingers to reassure him. John felt his heart stop dead as the pavement slab they were standing on began to move. Almost desperately, he clutched at Jack's hand, a motion that would go unnoticed by anyone else, but was impossible for Jack to ignore.

"Jack?" John whimpered, glancing down at the moving paving stone beneath them.

"John, it's fine." Jack soothed him, rubbing his knuckles with one finger. "It's supposed to do that."

Finally, John seemed to regain his composure.

'_Did I really just spaz out like that in front of Jack? Aridan, he must think I'm schizophrenic.'_

"Perception filter?" He wondered, half-curious. Jack nodded, resulting in a grin bursting from John. "Well, if Cardiff wasn't weird enough."

"Don't Jinx it." Jack pleaded, rolling his eyes at the joke. "We have a tough enough job as it is."

"Right… been meaning to ask about that." John smirked, watching Jack slouch, groaning. "Torchwood? After you quit the Agency, you decided to work for Torchwood?"

"Ummm… don't shoot me, but it sort-of fits in with the World War Two story."

[Fine] John laughed, not noticing the creature behind him. [I'll give you a rain check this time.]

{Umm… John…}

John turned around, just in time to see a massive Pterosaur swoop after them. He beamed.

"Jack! I thought you weren't the type for pets!"

Of course, this outburst resulted in many strange glances from the team members below. John could have sworn he heard Gwen mutter

"Why did Jack have to get that guy first?"

This then led to a rather heated argument between her and Owen.

"Gwen! I can't believe you're looking at him! He killed that boy!"

"Hey, and you're a man, Owen. Ask Tosh. It's unanimous."

Tosh gave a small smile. "He is gorgeous."

John grinned, glancing at Jack. "Are Gwen and Tosh going to get into a catfight? Because I would pay to see that."

Jack smirked, shaking his head. "Nah. They aren't that kind of team."

John pouted slightly. _'I really wanted to see Jack playing authority figure. It's really hot when he does that.' _

As the platform came within hearing range of the whole Torchwood team, John switched his comments to something that would be expected of him.

"Although… I really can't say that your interior design skills have gotten ANY better Jack." John commented, apparently appraising every surface. Even though…

[Jack, really, it's more of a dump than the pictures made it out to be.]

{Thanks a Bunch.}

"Quite sewer-chick…" John continued. "And honestly, Jack, you live in the statue? Could be any more pretentious?"

[You're welcome.] John preened. [And I'm assuming we're going to be acting a little?]

{You'll be acting a little. I'LL be acting a lot.} Jack corrected him. {But yeah.}

[Which act?]

{How about, I act like I hate you, and you act normally.}

[Oh, so like when you left me.] John sneered. [BIG jump there.]

{For me, Yes.}

At that, John threw up his barriers.

"Seeing as you hate me." He whispered, leaning close to Jack so no one else could hear. "I suggest we don't do THAT."

"Agreed." Jack nodded, as the platform finally stopped. Little did Jack know, John had been waiting for a time to bar the other man from his thoughts since he had arrived. It would make his life easier, not having to lie inside his mind.

John stretched, glancing around him as Jack stepped down.

"Welcome to Torchwood three John."

John smirked. _'If he's got to ignore me, I'll just HAVE to take this opportunity to make his life Hell.'_

"Well, it's roomy. I'll give it that." He mused, climbing down. "But other than that, I'm a little underwhelmed."

The frosty look Jack gave him send goose bumps up John's arms and small shivers of pleasure down his spine. Well, the last time he had gotten that look, they had just gotten well and thoroughly…

"John." Jack impatient voice snapped him out of his wet-memories. "Come on! I don't Really have all day."

"You could have all day if you wanted to." John muttered, watching for his word's effect on Jack. "And I can guarantee that you would have a lot more fun."

Jack visibly paled. But it was only visible because John was waiting for the reaction.

"Alright, we're going. Now."

John frowned a little at the bitterness behind Jack's words, but put it in the back of his mind. Unfortunately, there it was found by the uneasy desire locked there. With practiced ease, John constructed yet another wall and set of locks to contain it.

'_Keep calm John. Now is not the time to lose it and let it out. You need to keep your head. It'll all be over soon.'_

Which was true enough. About an hour, maybe two, and this would all be over.

Annoyed, but a little hopeful, he followed Jack. Though, once he noticed the box Jack was now holding, he realized that that was a huge mistake.

'_Alright.'_ John breathed, trying to calm down. _'I'm not going to die. He isn't one of the fuckers at that rehab place.' _That gave him little consolation. _'Okay… He's either going to put me in the box, or make me hand over all of my weapons… I think the second one is the better option.'_

Fortunately for the highly-claustrophobic John, it DID turn out to be the second option. Jack gave him a Knowing smile.

"What, you thought I was going to put _You_ in the Box?" John felt a small blush pooling between his shoulder blades, and nodded slightly. Jack grinned. "Nah, I, for one, don't typically do that to people."

"Oh?" John wondered, noticing an opportunity to make a joke. "And when do you put people in boxes?"

"They have to have not pissed me off as much as you do for one." John rolled his eyes.

"Now, then why didn't you leave before then, if that really was the case?"

"There is such a thing as, 'I didn't want you to kill me'." Jack smirked, dropping the box on the floor. "Now, I would prefer not to have my crazy ex wandering around Cardiff wearing half an armory."

'_Oh, Jack.'_ John thought to himself, giving his former Partner a thorough twice-over with his eyes. _'You underestimate me. It's not just half an armory.' _

"Alright." John sighed, pretending to give in. He pulled out his double pistols, dropping them into the box.

"And the sword." Jack prompted. John rolled his eyes in response.

"Yes dad." He muttered, unstrapping the blade from his waist. Jack smirked.

"Great. Now, the rest of them."

John grinned. "Aww, you know me. I'm a three-weapon kinda' guy."

Jack shook his head. "John, contrary to popular belief, I'm NOT stupid." He nudged the box with his toe. "Now."

DEATH_

It took about half an hour, but finally, John had been thoroughly disarmed. Not that he was very pleased about it.

Also, Jack hadn't responded to his suggestion that he should "come over here and do it himself."

That didn't go over well with anybody, especially not Eye candy. (It was still a very fitting name for the kid, despite Jack's instance the Ianto was likely the smartest person on the team. That just made the sexy little brat in a suit seem even more irresistibly appealing to John.)

Finally, after the fourth time of John suggesting that Jack do a final Pat-down, the other man started to blush.

"John." He growled, glaring intently at the other. John blinked, noticing a threat to his life when one was made.

"Fine." He sighed. "No more prompting, I know when You're a second from Yelling at me. And seeing as I'm still recovering from Gwen's earful, I'll just be quiet now."

Jack relaxed, letting out an uneasy breath.

"Fucking Virgins, the lot of you." John muttered under his breath. Of course - this not being his day - that comment was taken badly by all there.

Two "Am Not's" came from Gwen and Owen, Tosh looked petrified, and Ianto just stood with no expression.

'_Goddesses, is there nothing that makes him laugh?' _

And Finally, Jack gave the smallest smile. John grinned, feeling victorious.

"Alright, before you change the whole city into crazies…" Jack almost laughed, grabbing his wrist and dragging John towards a stair case.

"Jack!" Gwen snapped from behind them, Making John's head twist like a corkscrew.

"What Gwen?" Jack wondered, sparing a small glance at her.

"He just showed up, from another time, fully armed, and claiming there are Bombs."

"That basically sounds like it." John nodded. "Except you forgot how sexy I look in Jeans."

Jack growled. "Gwen, get to the point before I have another body to get rid of."

'_Another?'_ John wondered, glancing sideways at his – past – lover. _'That makes it sound like he's been handling body's a lot… and recently.'_ The dead look that had shown in Jack's eyes returned to the front of John's mind. _'What happened that he's so afraid of?'_

"Well, umm…" Gwen stumbled over her words, as if her tongue were now heavy and unwieldy. Now that John though about it, she probably wasn't that good of a snog. With that gap in her teeth… the childish charm wore off once you let your eyes wander off her face. She was DEFINITELY not a child. And it ruined her act whenever she decided to start behaving like a fully 'grown –up'.

"Gwen!" Jack barked, clearly not in the mood to be messed with. John paled, realizing that he may very well get caught in a power struggle. And not the good, fun kind. The scary, bloodshed kind.

"I think it would be safer if we talked while he," Gwen pointed in highly accusing manner at John. "Was in a cell. Or at least the interrogation room."

Jack and John rolled their eyes at the same time. "Don't be ridiculous." They said in unison.

Jack looked at him, surprised. John grinned.

"Well, not Everything changed." THAT comment just made Jack's eyes go wider. As if he was contagious (For all John knew, he was… it was a character trait.), Jack dropped his wrist.

Finally, Eye candy spoke. "Jack? Can I talk to you?"

Jack nodded, following his half-boyfriend out. Though, right before he left, Jack stared long and hard at John, sending one message that he didn't know would be received.

{Don't forget this is an act. Please.}

'_I won't.'_

* * *

><p>John growled, pacing the small room. Jack still hadn't gotten back from his little "Chat" with Ianto, and Gwen, turning Evil NunNanny/_Hitler_, had decided to lock him – of all the bloody places – in a small, enclosed room. One he suspected was heavily monitored by video surveillance.

Of course, having been bored, this theory was proven correct after he had stood on the table and started singing 'Blondie'. Owen had promptly called out over the loud speaker to – "Get his ass off the furniture and shut the Fuck up."

John had then proceeded to tell him that the only person at Torchwood he would fuck would be Jack, maybe Ianto, and is Tosh asked, her too. Why, because she actually minded her manners.

Plus, it wasn't even one of their worse songs… just "Atomic"… that only had a few innuendos.

And he didn't get off the table.

Finally, after what felt like Hours of standing there, staring accusingly at the camera, Jack opened the door.

"For the love of EVERYTHING that does or will _ever_ exist, get the hell off the table. Owen's been scarred enough for one lifetime, alright?"

John grinned, climbing down from on top of the furniture.

"Ah, I was just testin' them. I wasn't going to harm any of them too much."

Jack sighed. "And that's what makes me hesitant to trust you."

"But you love me anyway." John replied in a sickly-sweet, childish voice. That made Jack appear violently ill.

"Right." Jack sneered. "Now come on. You have got some explaining to do."

John sighed, following almost reluctantly. Now the serious part of this visit would begin.

* * *

><p>Océane: So?<p>

John: I personally think it was horrible, but that's because I'm not much of a Blondie person.

Océane: Didn't you get grounded after the last chapter?

John: Maybe.

Océane: Well, you go 'maybe' yourself out of this author's note. Anyway, if you have any CONSTRUCTIVE feedback, and not just comments on John's music tastes, there's a little blue link below this that says "Review this Story" with a little speech bubble. Yes, that. Click on it, and type a review. Or else.

Jack: Oh, so menacing.

Océane: Why do you all interrupt my author's notes?

Gwen: It's fun.

Océane: No. I draw the line. Get. Out. Now. I hate you.

Gwen: *starts crying*

Océane: Out. NOW!


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four: The Lies Begin

A/N: Océane: Hey! Yes, Know that these updates have been coming relatively fast, and I've been ignoring ATL a little, but I SWEAR, once I get out of the episode, I'll start paying more attention to my other story. I apologize for John's behavior in this chapter beforehand.

Tosh: that's fine. He just is a little out of things.

Océane: *sigh* finally! An assistant character that behaves! Alright, The same comments as other chapters, and the same warnings, Sex, Gay kissing/behavior, offensive language, etc…etc…

Tosh: our authoress here doesn't own anything except what's in John's head. Most of the plot is from the Episode.

Océane: Jack and John won't be yelling at each other mentally in this chapter, so you're safe from brackets.

Tosh: Mostly Janto, occasional scenes of Jack X John intimate moments. Don't Like Don't Read.

Océane: And here's the story!

* * *

><p>John stood in the hallway outside of the conference room. Sighing, he leaned back against the wall, his hands firmly clenched into fists, which he had shoved into his Jean's pockets.<p>

'_At least this will all be over soon.'_ He mused to himself, providing little reassurance to himself. _'Soon I won't have to do anything like this again.'_

To be honest, John felt like Shit. He had just blatantly lied to the entire Torchwood team. What's more, he lied to Jack, and didn't even blink. From the elaborate tale he had told them, He had weeded out as much of the truth as was possible without changing the shape of the canisters.

'_If this doesn't work, Jack'll have my head.'_ John sighed again, allowing his head to drop to rest on his chest. Suddenly, his ears picked up a fragment of conversation. Or, more specifically, Jack's voice.

"I'm believing him because there is a slim chance that John is telling the truth, and the city is in real danger."

Gwen made some other comment, one that John didn't hear, but it clearly turned Jack's mood sour. The next time he spoke, his voice was hushed and dangerous.

"DON'T ask me about it."

Oh. Gwen was prying about those same three months. Though, something told John that his Ex had been away for much longer than that. He couldn't quite place it, but something about Jack was off. He was… jumpy. If you came into the room without telling him, he would snap. And he didn't deal with questions well. Or the changes the team had made. John had been there, witnesses the coronary Jack had suffered when he discovered Tosh had cut four inches off her hair. No, the changes wouldn't be noticed by anyone else, but John had dedicated no less than a decade of his life to Jack, and vice-versa. There was something wrong, John was positive of that much.

Jack had a dead look in his eyes. That look had scared John the first time he had laid eyes on Jack. It was… deep. Scarring. Permanent.

Slowly, his mind began re-arranging the puzzle pieces it had collected together, scrambling an image of what had happened.

'_The dark feeling in his mind, the dead look, his skittishness… I was supposed to show up here two months ago – that's what I programmed into my VM, and it's never gone wonky… how terrified of change he seemed…'_ it was starting to make sense. _'What happened to you Jack?'_ John wondered, daring to glance back into the conference room.

Jack leaned against the table, seeming as though nothing was wrong. But John wasn't blinded by lust like Gwen was. He could see the warning signs as clearly as he could see the desire on Gwen's face. How Jack rolled his shoulders, apparently unused to the feel of a shirt covering his back. The way he stood, silently scanning everything he could get his eyes over, from Gwen to the furniture to the hall where John stood. The involuntary shivers that went down his spine as Gwen talked about 'getting him to play along'…

How Jack breathed deeper, more evenly outside on the plass, and down here in the Hub. The defensive stance he took whenever in an enclosed space. How he subconsciously rubbed his wrists every few seconds, almost as if savoring not having them bound. How he stood ridged whenever a door slammed, and his mouth opened slightly, as if preparing to scream. How he had frozen for a few seconds when John handed him a knife…John shuddered.

Jack had been kept somewhere, for a long time. Probably kidnapped.

What's more, John was positive Jack had been tortured.

John swallowed, bile rising up his throat as a new concept occurred to him.

The way Jack had almost started to cry as Owen began on his "man whore" rampage… what should have been ordinary insults by a 21st century Homophobe almost put Jack to tears. Then, how he had blatantly dismissed every suggestion John made, telling him 'no' pretty strongly… That wasn't the same Jack that John knew. He was an entirely different man; and John had an idea of why.

Jack hadn't just been tortured. He'd been raped.

Still shivering from this revelation into Jack's behavior, John began to pay more attention to what was going on in the Conference room. He hoped that Jack had been faking it when he told John to get out of the room. If not… then maybe the closeness they had brought back was destroyed the second Jack's team came into the equation.

"He knows you too well." Gwen was saying, and John smiled. "He'll never open up to you. So maybe, if I just flirt a little, get him to talk a little…"

John almost laughed at that, watching Jack's reaction. Jack looked like he was fighting tooth and nail against the same laughter that John was. Gwen, gain John's trust? More importantly, she thought that Jack knew him TOO well?

That was just ridiculous. If anything, Jack didn't know John well enough anymore, if he was only suspicious of John hurting someone else.

But one glance into the shadows where John hid proved that that was the last thing Jack was concerned about. The second that Jack's eyes met John's, both knew that John had no intention of anyone getting caught in the crosshairs.

"Alright." Jack finally said, cutting off something Gwen was saying. "You can go with him. But I have three rules."

John grinned. Oh, this was going to get interesting.

"One: don't believe anything he says. Two: always keep him in front of you. And three: under no circumstances let him kiss you."

John grinned, then scowled at Gwen's entirely unnecessary 'ick' face.

"As if I would!"

'_I'm not that bad of a kisser.'_ John thought, then decided that Gwen's over-reaction warranted being annoying again.

"Hey! Has he gotten to the 'no kissing rule' yet?" John yelled from the hall, approaching the room and smirking. "Jack only has that rule because he wants me to himself."

Jack's expression was pure, cold-blooded murder. John swallowed, but not out of fear. No, Jack just looked Way too sexy when he was pissed off. (Then again, as John later reflected, there wasn't a single expression he could think of that Jack didn't make look good. Sort-of like colors. Honestly, the man could wear anything from a Civil War uniform to neon green and still look illegally good.)

"Alright. We're leaving. Now." Jack snapped, dragging John out of the room with him. If it wasn't born of distrust, John would be enjoying how much he and Jack were holding hands.

* * *

><p>About twenty minutes later, John and Gwen were walking around a storage lot. Not the easiest place to find a small container, but John had dealt with worse, and with more incompetent help. Namely, trying to find Jack… alone.<p>

"So… you wound up engaged." John noticed, glancing at Gwen's right hand. She blushed, nodding slightly. "I pity the man."

"Oi?" Gwen's head snapped up, her face red. "What the hell do you mean by that?"

"Oh, nothing." John shrugged, continuing to walk. "I just figured you were more the type to roam." He grinned maliciously at her. "After all, you seem to be pretty friendly with that Doctor."

'_And Jack.'_ His silent jealousy added, but he contented himself with the expression on Gwen's face. The deer-caught-in-the-headlights-of-a-hummer look was PRICELESS.

Gwen shook herself off, rushing to catch up with him.

"And you and Jack." She noted.

'_Yeup, Kothyd, you did a number on this one when she was born.'_ Though, would the Goddess of intellect have even been around in the 21st century? Well, they were more advanced than in the Neolithic…

"How was it?" Gwen asked very suddenly, making John pause.

"What?" He snapped, blinking at the inquest.

"You know." Gwen grinned her toothy, childish smile. John winced at her next sentence. "How was _he_?"

A million answers came to John's mind in a second.

'_Perfect. Flawless. Amazing. Compassionate. Mind-blowing. Scary. Deep. Permanent. Warm. Loving. Happy. Beautiful. Peaceful. __Ezihsk. If I'm entirely honest, I have__ never gotten over it, really'. _But that wasn't what he said to Gwen.

"Eh. Is 'okay."

Gwen frowned, clearly expecting something more along the lines of gushing about how it was 'the best nights of sex of my life.' Not, 'eh, is 'okay.'

Sorry, John **did not** do gushing.

"Are you sure?" Gwen wondered. "You aren't hiding anything from me?"

'_No, seriously Kothyd. You blessed this child. I see that. Can you now make her even stupider?'_

John just grinned. "Nope, I don't think so." After a second, he smiled at Gwen. "And anyway, why would I want to hide something from you honey?"

Gwen smirked, making John feel sick once again. "I don't know. Maybe because you're embarrassed."

John snorted. "Look, Gwen. There isn't anything TO be embarrassed over." John stopped walking, to stare down at Gwen as he spoke. "We were partners, we fucked, and when we got out of the time lock, Jack left like a summer date. Nothing to be embarrassed about." John laughed, more at the bizarreness of his lie than anything else. "Hell, if anything, it was a really long one-night stand. Only it couldn't end."

'_Only we couldn't end it.'_ John's nagging heart urged him to say.

Gwen opened her mouth to make a comment, but John started off, more to avoid questions, than to actually start working.

'_Remember John.'_ He reminded himself. _'I have to find those cylinders. If it takes more than a day, they'll shut down, and then where will I be?'_

Screwed. That's where he would be.

"So, ummm…" John paused, glancing at his wrist. Finally. "It's in this one."

Gwen glanced at him suspiciously, as he held up his VM. Punching in the codes he had programmed, John shut off the tracker. Still mildly untrusting, Gwen helped him heave open the doors of the massive shipping crate.

Inside, lying on the floor, was the canister. In a second, John had picked it up, clipping it onto the space on his belt next to his left holster. Which was still empty - John reminded himself to beg his stuff off of Jack. Then again, he wouldn't really need it. But he didn't want the agency hunting down everyone at Torchwood because of some misplaced tracker or something.

Gwen smirked, her hands on her hips. "Well, that wasn't as hard as it could have been." She commented.

"Yeah. Could've been harder. Bet the others are still up to their necks looking." Immediately, John grimaced, regretting that statement.

Gwen laughed. "I bet. Which reminds me. We should call them."

'_Shit.'_ John swore. _'She's going to try to talk about it. In a second she'll find out I muted the comns, and Jack'll get suspicious. And then she'll scream, and it'll all go wrong.'_ He hesitated, watching blankly as Gwen started to say something else. _'It'll be safer for her if she isn't involved in this.'_

At that, John made up his mind. No one else could get hurt because of him.

"Jo-" she was cut off when he grabbed her by the sides of the head, kissing her hard enough that she probably felt dizzy. Unfortunately, the 'dizzy' side effect didn't have any influence on her ability to slug him one hell of one in the eye.

John let her go, watching almost carelessly as Gwen balanced unsteadily.

"Why the hell did you do that?" she demanded, glaring with a fury that might have killed John if he was that weak of a man.

"Celebratory snog?" he suggested, counting silently. _'Eight, nine…ten.'_ She was due to collapse… Now.

"What the…" Gwen tried to slur, her knees no longer supporting her. John stepped forward, catching her limp body before it hit the ground.

"Oh, it's just something I learned from Jack." John grinned, laying Gwen down. "It's a paralysis agent. You should find that you won't be able to move. It'll get harder to blink and breathe as it spreads through your bloodstream. In about, oh, an hour, your body will start to shut down, and you should find that you can't breathe. Hopefully someone'll find you before that, but… you never know." He stood up, leaving Gwen lying there, terrified of whether or not someone would find her in time.

John paused, hesitating at the door. The evil half of him rose up, seizing the moment. Gwen, lying sedated, weak, unable to fight back. He might not have any of his weapons, but the darkness at the back of his mind was innovative. It would find something to end her life. The buzz that had silenced it from the kid had worn off, and the longing was coming back strong. The urge, the longing to feel the racing of another being's heart, their terror as you bled the life out of them. The smooth, warm flow of blood over your hands as the last drops fell from their body…

John felt sick, almost letting his gag reflex reject the contents of his stomach – if there had been any. He swallowed the bitter, acidic taste of stomach acid to the back of his throat, and sighed, sparing one last glance at Gwen's stiff form before closing one of the doors. He left the second one open a crack, so that anyone searching would notice the light from her flashlight inside.

Weary, he flipped open Gwen's phone. After a few seconds of testing, he managed to type a successful message, and send it to one of the people in her contacts. Jack would get it.

"S – H – E – Eleven – B – Three – F – Nine."

With that, John pitched the phone weakly over the next row of containers. That would get anyone searching thrown off the track. But only a little. Not so badly that Gwen would rot in the storage container, but it would buy him enough time to finish what he had come here to do.

John shuddered a little, then typed the next set of coordinates into this VM. He could reflect on this whole mess once he was done. Reluctantly, John pressed the last button, disappearing from the lot.

* * *

><p>It was simple enough to knock Tosh out. He just snuck up behind her, and held a cloth soaked in sedative over her face. In two seconds, she was out like a light. The only part John regretted was the blood. It wasn't actually hers; he had unwrapped the cut on his hand and smeared some of his blood over the floor and in her hair. John could only hope that he hadn't gotten some random STD in the past three days. It wouldn't be good if he got Tosh sick from this. After all, she was the only one who hadn't wanted to kill him outright. And that made her alright in John's books.<p>

Now, he waited in the shadows by one box for Owen to show up. Since he had already Taken two of them out, He might as well continue the trend. If nothing else, I'd be even more reason for Jack to not want to stop him.

The blackness, begging him to use the moment. To end the one life lying in front of him, then the next who showed up.

John shuddered, staring at the chunk of wood he held. His fingers tightened, waiting for Owen to show up.

'_No.'_ He swore. _'There's been enough death. It's time for this to end.'_

Finally, Owen rounded the corner, staring at Tosh.

"Tosh!" he cried, running up to her. John stepped out of the shadows, smirking.

"You two really do make a cute couple. I'd suggest you get married, but I think one Widow per Generation is enough for Torchwood. You'll have to wait until Gwen gets offed."

Owen stood, growling. "I swear, if you touch her again…"

John rolled his eyes. _'Brilliant. He's the protective type. Tosh could do so much better.'_

"Don't worry Romeo. I'll leave the two of you alone in a bit."

"What do you want?" Owen practically snarled, standing protectively over Tosh's unconscious form.

John snickered. "Easy there. I just want the canister." He held up the second cylinder, shaking it lightly. For all he knew, this was the one with the pyramid in it.

Owen tapped his earpiece. "Jack? You there?"

John snorted. "Honestly, you think I haven't blocked the comns already? It's a simple piece of tech, easy to jam it with just a code." He smirked as Owen weakly lowered his hand. "Really, do you people think I'm that stupid with gear?"

"I'm not going to let you get out of here." Owen stated, prompting another eye roll from John. "Whatever's in those canisters must be pretty important to you, aren't they?"

John sighed. "Goddesses, you're brilliant. Now I'm leaving. Bye." John started to walk towards the door, but Owen blocked his path.

"No."

John groaned. "Now, I was hoping I wouldn't have to do this." At that, he sent Owen flying. John winced slightly at the disturbing 'crack' as Owen contacted the crate across from him. His concern dissipated a little when Owen stood, a little uneasily, but he stood.

John stood, hands on hips, watching Owen struggle to stay balanced. Blindly, he picked up Owen's discarded Gun, and the piece of Two – By – Four he had found earlier.

"Now, the efficiency of a gun, or the brutality of wood?"

Owen groaned. "Stop screwing with me and just get it the hell over with."

John opened his mouth, as an obscene comment came to mind. He shrugged instead, tossing the hunk of wood to the side.

"Fine." And, taking an exact aim, He fired.

Owen dropped to the ground, but he wasn't dead. John stepped forward, pulling out the rag he had used to sedate Tosh earlier. Owen grasped his arm, where John had shot him, grinding his teeth.

Owen Backed away from him as he knelt, trying to press the fabric over his mouth. John sighed, grabbing Owen as gently as he could. The other man struggled, until John slid an arm over his throat, in a hushed, hurried tone, he growled in Owen's ear.

"She isn't dead." Owen froze, His eyes darting to Tosh.

"How the hell do I know that?"

John smiled. "If I wanted you dead, I would have killed you both already, wouldn't I?"

At that, he pressed the rag over Owen's face, waiting until his body went limp to lay him down.

* * *

><p>John pried Owen's fingers from around his gunshot wound. Gently, he examined the bullet hole. A through and through shot. Good. John scrounged through Owen's bag, until he found a roll of bandages. They would have to do.<p>

After ten minutes, he stood, observing his work. The bandage reached from Owen's armpit to halfway down his upper arm. It would have to hold until Tosh woke up. John just hoped that was before Owen's bandage slipped and he bled to death. He had tried to aim away from any major arteries or Joints, but it was that or his foot. And if there was one thing John knew about Torchwood, it was that an agent who couldn't walk wasn't much of an agent.

A small nagging in the back of his mind reminded him of the discarded piece of wood. How relieving, liberating it would feel to take it, drag away the two, unknowing lives in front of him. To seal their fates with a matter of blows. It would only take a few seconds. He could spare a minute… John swallowed, turning his back on them and the thoughts.

John turned to walk out, when he noticed their hands. Owen's right hand was splayed out to the side of him, laying on Tosh's. John smiled.

'_At least they have each other.'_ He thought, dismissing the blackness that welled up when he passed the bloody piece of wood. _'They deserve at least that.'_ He passed through the warehouse doors, beginning to type in the next set of coordinates as he mused. _'Alone is a sad place to be. Especially at their age.' _

John laughed at that. He was probably younger than either of them, and he was thinking about what it's like at their age. Then again, he had live a thousand lives for his one, so wouldn't he be an expert on life? After all, he had lived too much in twenty nine years.

* * *

><p>Ianto stood, alone in the office building. He had just sent Jack up to the roof, very rudely. John licked his lips, approaching the young man from across the room. Ianto turned, just as John raised the gun he had taken off Owen.<p>

"Get in the elevator Eye candy." John ordered, meeting Ianto's eyes. They were calm, unbothered by the threat in front of him.

"Why would I do that?" He wondered, blinking innocently. John ground his teeth. He really needed to get the kid out of the building.

"Well, for one, your friends are bleeding to death. Among other things." John grinned, lying through his teeth. It came second nature to him after his years in the Agency. Ianto stood, disbelieving, before trying the comns.

"Owen? Gwen?"

John rolled his eyes. "Honestly, does everyone here think that I'm a child? I blocked them. Little toys those are. So, if my suggestion is anything, I'd advise you go. Now."

Ianto took a step backwards into the waiting elevator. Then, he paused, holding the door open to stare at John.

"Why?"

John sighed. Some part of him dredged up some babbling lie about money and love… but he didn't recall what exactly he said. Ianto just stood there, stunned. Realizing the look of pain on the other man's face, John spoke again.

"If it's actually worth anything, he loves you. Now go."

Meekly, Ianto obeyed, stepping backwards into the elevator and letting the doors shut.

John relaxed, starting up the stairs. Now he would have to deal with Jack.

* * *

><p>Océane: So? Anyone starting to put together John's mind?<p>

Tosh: I have! Océane really enjoys reviews!

Océane: Yeah! I know there aren't that many Jack X John fans out there, but still! Most of it's mundane things like memories. Review Please!


	6. Chapter Five

Chapter 5: The Pain Grows

Océane: Hey! Yeah, really fast updates, I know, I know. Give me umm… (two, three…) yeah. At most three more chapters, and I'll be out of the episode KKBB.

Brad: and you're ignoring me. I feel entirely unwanted! Is Utah not important?

Océane: No! It's important! I mean, I promise, I've already gotten Jack's part of the next chapter mostly done…. I just have to figure out how Yan's part is going to work, then I'll update. I swear!

Brad: Fine. Now, Ocean here doesn't own squat 'cept what's in John's head. Kay?

Océane: grrr…. Remind me why I invited you? Never mind. Warnings that apply to the rest of the story go right here. Sex, guy/guy, etc… I won't say it again.

Brad: Huzza! The brackets are back in this chapter! Jack talking to John through Mind-speech is {…}, and John talking is […].

Océane: Well, read and review. DLDR!

* * *

><p>John rolled his shoulders, staring at Jack from the far corner of the roof. What he would give to be able to just go over there, collapse into those strong, supportive arms. He wanted nothing more than to hear Jack say those three words, but he knew he didn't deserve it.<p>

Jack turned around, just in time to see John approaching him.

"John?" Jack wondered, smiling slightly. John felt himself pulled in by the smoothness of Jack's demeanor, until he reminded himself of what he was supposed to be doing.

"Hey Jack." He managed to smile. Jack grinned, picking up the canister.

"You want to tell me what's really in here?" Jack asked, holding it out to the side of him. John blinked, unable to decide between the two.

"Jack … I…." He stammered, watching Jack's face turn grim.

"'Cause that's the strange thing John." He mused, taking two steps closer. "there is absolutely no sign of radiation of any sort coming from it. So do you really want to keep trying to convince me these are radiation cluster bombs?"

John sighed. "Jack…"

{John. Talk to me.} Jack pleaded. Reluctantly, John pulled down a few of his barriers.

[I can't.]

{Why not? You used to do it all the time.}

[Yeah, well. That was before! Before you left me! things have had to change!]

{John, what're you up to?}

John hesitated, before answering as best as he could. [Balancing.]

Jack took half a dozen steps back. "Yeah. Great Job of Balancing."

John watched, horrified, as Jack went right to the edge of the tall building. [don't. You. Dare.]

"What did you do to them John?" Jack demanded, his manner now steely. "My team. Where are they?"

"They're fine." John bluffed. It wasn't entirely a lie. They were still alive.

"Then why didn't any of them check in?" Jack asked. John cursed, using words that wouldn't be around for another century or two.

"They got in the Fucking way."

Jack frowned. His eyes became hard, and he slammed his barriers up.

"Then I guess… whoops." Jack threw the canister off the top of the building, grinning. "I guess I'm in the way now, aren't I John?"

John stared, shocked. Jack's grin was dark, evil even. When John met his eyes, there was nothing but contempt and hatred in them.

'_Goddesses, he really hates me. It was all just a lie, Jack hates me.'_ The thought alone brought John close to tears, until all of the little incidents over the past day he had shoved back into the corner of his mind started adding up. _'You only got his voicemail. You aren't important enough to him for anything else. He stopped talking to you as soon as the rest of his team showed up. He laughed at you. He's Torchwood for crying out loud! You think that the rest of them will just let you live? You're probably under the alien category. He thinks that you're dangerous. He cares about that team of his more than you. Jack want's you gone. He never cared for you. That's what he's saying. He's only been snapping at you and dragging your name through the muck ever since you got here. There isn't anything left for him to find in you. That's why he's treating you like this. That's why he left.'_

The darkness he held at bay emerged, pushing him forward. The whole thing had taken less than a fraction of a second.

Before He realized what he was doing, John shoved Jack, hard. That one action was enough to send Jack off the roof. As he came to his senses, John panicked, watching frantically over the edge of the building as Jack plummeted to the ground. The first tears slipped through John's eyelashes as Jack's limp, decimated form impacted the concrete.

John's heart throbbed, beating at the same pace as his frantic mind. He had just killed Jack.

It took less than a second for his body to become strongly aroused. More tears fell to the ground, tracing the path Jack had made through the air. Not giving himself a chance to register the physical pain, John raced down the stairs, tears streaming from his eyes.

'_No, no. it wasn't supposed to be like this. I was supposed to be better. It was supposed to make the pain go away. Jack was right, Jack was right. He was right to run away from me. Jack was right, Jack was Right, Jack was right…'_ that became the Mantra in John's head, as he flew down staircase after staircase. _'Jack was right, Jack was right…'_ his feet pounded the stairs, taking them two, sometimes three at a time in his rush to get to the street. _'Jack was right. Jack was right…'_

Those three words kept repeating in John's head as he burst through the door at the ground floor. His eyes came to rest on Jack's body lying in front of him. Blood continued to race through his body, not entirely from his frantic run down the stairs.

His body reacted stronger than it ever had before. But John couldn't bring himself to do anything but stand there, hardly breathing.

Finally, the horror set in. John took one step forward. Then, he took another… and another… and another. John forced himself to continue walking, until he stood next to Jack's body.

Exhaustion hit him next. John collapsed to the ground, sobbing weakly.

"I'm sorry." He pleaded through his tears, though he knew Jack couldn't hear him. "Jack, I – I'm so sorry."

Gently, John raised his hand, not quite knowing what he could do.

Then, the remorse showed. John straightened Jack's body, laying him flat out on the pavement. It was all he could do for him. All the while, his body was getting pleasure from it, but the fragment of John's mind that wasn't on auto-pilot contradicted it. This was wrong. Death because of another person was wrong. No matter what lies had been told to him, no matter what manner of blasphemy had been whispered to him as a child before his parents tucked him in at night, THIS was wrong.

John finally came back to Jack's side, sitting on his feet and crying. His silent apology.

* * *

><p>John couldn't remember how long he had sat by Jack's corpse. All he knew was that the pain wasn't fading any, like his dream had promised. With shaking hands, He closed Jack's eyes.<p>

Finally, John's common sense came back to him. He glanced around, searching for a source of water. Shakily, he stood, going over to a fountain nearby. Jack may have been atheist, but that didn't mean that John couldn't do this one last favor for his only friend.

Cupping a small amount of water in his hand, he walked over to Jack's side. Tenderly, he brushed the hair back from Jack's face, before pressing one damp finger to the smooth, pale skin of Jack's forehead. As he traced the timeless spiral on his Lovers forehead, he muttered;

"Luit a jamais, et prome rapie ave Aridan deu le tome du Ezihsk."

John waivered, Knowing that he was stalling. Someone had probably seen them, and the Cops were likely to be coming. Or the rest of Torchwood was coming, their respective sedatives worn off by now.

Reluctantly, John stood, taking one last, long look at his dead lover, before walking away. He picked up the canister, and turned his back on the scene for the last time.

'_Jack was right. I am a monster.'_

* * *

><p>Jack came to, only to find he was surrounded by his co-workers.<p>

"Wha-" He wondered blearily, confused. He glanced around, recognizing the Torchwood Autopsy bay. Suddenly, his head began to spin, forcing him to lie back down.

"Jack." Owen's voice called out to him, as a penlight was shoved into his face. "You've gotta stay awake, alright?"

"Do I look like I'm fucking sleeping Owen?" He growled, sitting up. One by one, he took in the faces of his team members. Owen had a bandage wrapped around his arm, Tosh had blood in her hair – something told Jack that it wasn't hers – by far, Gwen seemed to have come out of this experience the worst. Her eyes were wide, and she was as pale as the tiles behind her. Finally, Jack's eyes came to rest on Ianto.

"How're you doing?" he asked the young man. Ianto opened his mouth to respond, but Gwen cut in.

"Oh my God, Jack! I thought I was going to die! John gave me this drug or something, and it made me paralyzed, and he said that if someone didn't find me soon, I would die. Ohmygod, I couldn't breathe. I thought I was going to die. If Ianto hadn't found me…" Gwen looked to be on the verge of tears. Jack rolled his eyes. Women. They would never be understood.

"Owen, did you take blood samples?" he asked, reaching to grasp Ianto's hand.

"Yup. The whole team, including you." After a moment, he added, "But, Jack…"

Jack's head snapped around to look at him. "What?"

"John – He told me that if he wanted us dead, we would be." Jack nodded, already aware of most of this information.

"That's because he isn't out to harm others." Jack explained. "Owen, did you analyze Gwen's blood?"

Owen shook his head. "Didn't have a chance to. Why?"

"Do it, and I think you all might start to know John a little better."

Ianto shifted uncomfortably, before handing Jack his phone.

"Here." Ianto muttered. Jack raised an eyebrow, confused. "I got a message from Gwen's phone just after the comn lines went dead."

Jack flipped open the phone, reading the message with a small smile. At the end, he let out a small laugh. This earned him many weird looks.

"It's John." He smirked, re-reading the message. "None of you managed to figure out what this means, did you?"

All heads were shaken. Alright, a definite No.

Jack pulled a pen and a piece of paper off of Owen's desk.

"Here." He demonstrated, writing down the message. Then, he showed everyone it.

"She11 B3 F9"

"None of you understand it still, correct?"

All heads were now nodded. Okay…

Jack flipped the paper around, while talking.

"It's a basic code. Called 'Leek Speak'. Only, it's spelled with a one, as seven, and two three's"

Now, he showed them the paper.

"John and I would use it to pass notes in class. It takes a little thinking to transcribe some of them, but this one's easy."

Now, with Jack's added symbols and letters, it was easy to read.

"**She**^**' **11 **LL** **B **3**E** **F** n**ine**"

"Can you read it Now?"

All stood stunned stupid. Jack grinned.

"John was telling you that Gwen wasn't in danger. He sent this because he knew I could translate."

Jack beamed. That was the John he knew, Now where was he?

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _(speaking of John…)_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

John huddled in a corner of the alleyway, sniffing back his tears. If this really was going to be a cliché moment, it should be raining. Then again, john mused, he was fortunate it wasn't. With his luck today, he would have caught some 21st century version of the Spanish influenza. And John wasn't entirely sure that his immune system would have been able to take care of it, because his nervous system sure wasn't up to snuff.

John curled himself onto an even tighter knot, trying to block the images flashing in front of him. He squeezed his eyes shut, but to no avail. The pictures were still as clear inside his head as if he were standing there once again.

Jack, lying dead on the concrete. The feel of his kin, clod, lifeless. The final rush of adrenalin after shoving him off the building. The sick, deep pleasure running through him as he watched Jack fall. The terror ingrained into Jack's eyes as he hit the ground. The strong arousal from the whole scene.

John swallowed, desperately trying to forget. But his body wouldn't let him forget. Probably wouldn't ever. That's what he deserved, wasn't it? To be in pain like this forever, taunted by the sickening sexual pleasure he had gotten from the pointless, senseless murder of the one man he loved.

Horror and attraction  
>Morality and desire<br>Pain and gratification  
>Remorse and satisfaction<br>Loss and arousal

That was the deadly game that his mind and body played. The struggle between morality and the obscene, marring arousal he got from it.

His body was still reacting to the scene. No high had ever lasted this long. None of them had gone for this long without fading.

Weakly, john scrounged through the piles of Junk around him. Finally, his search found an old, rusted switchblade. It would have to do. Besides, it didn't matter to John if he got tetanus. He wouldn't live long enough to need treatment.

'Yes.' He reminded himself, discarding his Jacket on the ground next to him. 'Because that's what I need now. To leave life entirely. Maybe Zol will not accept me because of the curse she put on me. Maybe they will turn me back from the falls. I wouldn't blame Aridan for leading me off into the forest instead of to the falls.'

John pulled the bandage free from his wrist, laying it gently down next to him. It was the last symbol of love Jack had ever given him. New tears welled up in John's eyes at the memory.

'_John, I'm sorry for what happened. After I left…__Something tells me that there was a lot more that happened than 'nothing you need to be concerned with… It doesn't matter what I want. I need to know if you want to talk about it.'_

He deserved this. He deserved to be alone. He deserved to have to measure the pain on his own skin.

Swallowing to ensure his resolve, John brought the blade up, pressing it deep into the skin of his arm. He winced as the newly healed lines broke open again, but this was his punishment. This was his fair trial.

'_One two three four five six seven…' _

John got all the way up to twelve – the worst it had ever gotten – and the pain was still there.

After close to an hour, John stood. Slipping on his Jacket, he picked up the bandage. Instead of wrapping it once more around his wounds like anyone else may have done, John sighed, throwing it into the garbage can next to him. He didn't deserve treatment.

Finally, he began walking. He needed to get back to the hub. Then, it would all be over.

'_The scales will finally be balanced.' _

* * *

><p>Océane: Poor John!<p>

Brad: But you're the one that made him dysfunctional!

Océane: I know! But that doesn't mean I can't pity him, dies it?

Brad: whatever. So, how many of you got confused by the whole 'John talking in a weird language, what the hell are these goddesses he keeps talking about' stuff?

Océane: well… I'm posting a chapter explaining nothing but John's religion. Should be really short, and if you want to know what that sentence he muttered mean, I'll tell you.

Brad: she actually butchered a sentence in French to make it, with the exception of a couple words she made up.

"Luit a jamais, et prome rapie ave Aridan deu le tome du Ezihsk." Translates into:  
>"Rest forever, and walk rapidly by Aridan's side to the falls of Ezihsk."<p>

Océane: Aridain, Zol, Kothyd, Ezihsk, …ummm (which other goddesses did I mention?), Faliken, Ynide, all of them, are sisters. Give me another chapter, and I'll explain the whole confusing mess.


	7. John's Religion NOT mandatory!

John's Religion

Everything balances out. Zol is the leader of all of the Goddesses. She is also the oldest of all the sisters.

Aridan (the goddess of Passing or death) and Venxne (the Goddess of coming or birth) are her two twin sisters.

All spirits before they are put into bodies before birth are a part of Ezhisk, their version of heaven or the afterlife. When each child is born, Venxne takes their hand, and leads them along the bank of a river. After turning 18, Venxne leaves them to walk on their own. For the rest of the journey, they are walking towards Aridan, who will eventually lead them over the falls to Ezihsk.

Aridn leads the spirits of the dead back to Ezihsk where they had come from before. She brings them to a set of Waterfalls, where the river that Venxne leads them along their lives ends. These are in essence, the gates back into Ezhisk. The spirits of the dead must pass over the falls to reach a peaceful death. Zol is waiting to greet everyone on the other side.

Those who have done great wrong, or who have displeased Aridan personally, will never reach Ezhisk. Aridan will lead them off into the forest on either side of the river, rather than to the falls. There, she will leave them to wander for eternity. It is this abandonment in the forest that results in the restless spirits of ghosts, trapped and unable to move on.

All of the other Goddesses are the younger siblings. Each pairs off with another based on their domain. Each also has a symbol in nature specific to them. Here is the list of all of them, their domain, symbols and their pairs.

Zol: Goddess of Life. Symbol: The universe

Aridan : Goddess of Passing or Death : Waterfall - Pair- Venxne : Goddess of Coming or Birth : River

Ynide : Intuition : Glacier - Pair - Kothyd : Intellect : Aurora

Noklo : Hatred : Entwined Thorns - Pair - Typqu : Justice : Equal Trees

Marain : Rage : Thunder - Pair - Cjanne : Love : Comet

Ubhon : Violence : Burning Log - Pair - Shwiln : Peace : Smooth Ice

Ishith : Mercy : White Rose - Pair - Faliken : Pain : Glass Shards

There's still a couple more facts about it, but You'll learn about those later!


	8. Chapter Six

Océane: Another chapter, Yay!

John: Whatever. Just get on with it.

Océane: someone needs caffeine, don't they? Anyway, the usual. M-For-A-Reason, Guy/Guy, Cursing, Etc… I don't want to hear anyone complaining about the fact that John and Jack are still in love. It's a fact, and if you can't accept it, you didn't watch KKBB. **Janto** scenes plentiful though!

John: 'Drip' here owns nothing, except my thoughts. She did tweak the plot of the episode _quite_ a bit.

Océane: Neither do I own "I Can't Dance", "Prisoner of Love", or "Lover's Cross". Those are owned by Genesis, Foreigner, and Jim Croce (each in turn, not all at once). I highly recommend all songs by these Artists! … And didn't I tell you only my date's allowed to call me that?

John: … Jack talking to me through Mind-speech is {…}, and I am […]. Don't like, Don't read (and Much Gwen-bashing )

Océane: You did a smiley… Here it is! I'd say I hope you like it, but… You'll probably cry. Don't Kill me! John's tried. It failed.

* * *

><p>Balancing the Scales<p>

John sighed, rolling his shoulders before steeling his nerves. He had to do this. And fast. He would go in, grab his stuff, and walk out. No eye contact, no words. Just in and out. John let out a small laugh.

'_I remember the last time I thought that.'_ He reminisced. _'Jack and I were…'_ and then he remembered Jack. Lying dead. Because of him.

'_I pray Typqu and Cjanne will accept my sacrifice, and Zol sets apart a special corner of Ezihsk for you Jack.'_ John pleaded silently to his dead lover, allowing a few silent tears to fall. _'You deserve it.' _

John sighed, forcing himself to continue walking. _'Yes, Jack. You definitely deserve it.'_ He confirmed, finding his way through the office and into the Hub. _'Just like I deserve this.'_

John paused in the doorway, unsure of his actions. Doubtless, the whole team had woken up from their respective sedatives. They wouldn't take his reappearance kindly, nor would they take the fact that he had murdered their boss too well.

He shrugged, passing the concept off as second-guessing himself.

'_If they want to kill me, then they're doing half my Job for me.' _

John swallowed, forcing himself to continue moving. Finally, after what felt like an hour of inching his way through the tourist shop, John found himself in the main building of Torchwood Three. Involuntarily, he winced as the alarm went off. Some things never wore off you, no matter how long you gave it to settle.

For John, there were only a few things that did that to him: tight, enclosed spaces and sudden changes (two presents from his time in "Murder Rehab"), And Death.

More specifically, Jack's death.

John doubted he would ever get the stench of corpses off of him. Then again, it defeated the purpose to try. He would be one soon enough.

John was half-way across the main area when he heard a door slam. He froze, petrified deep into his soul.

Slowly, he felt a presence behind him. John swallowed, staring at his feet.

"Hey Ianto." He muttered, already aware of who it was. He could feel the young man smile, feel the space between his shoulder blades heat up with an unwanted embarrassment.

"We've actually been waiting for you." Ianto smiled, stopping John's heart dead.

* * *

><p>##_ FLASHBACK _##<p>

Jack sat up on the autopsy table, glancing around him. He sighed, meeting nothing but anger and mistrust in his team's eyes. Though, after all he had put them through, and all he had been through, they couldn't be called 'His Team' any more than he could truly be called 'their Jack'. All of them had changed.

Everyone else, for the better. But Jack: he had changed for the worse.

"I really wish I could tell you everything, but that will have to wait for John." He admitted.

"Why?" Gwen snapped, her usually soft expression hard. Jack swallowed.

"Well, for one…"

"Don't you dare." Gwen's voice was dangerous now.

"Gwen." Jack all but choked out the name of the one person he might have actually called his best friend at one point. But that seemed so long ago now. Like a distant memory. Like John. But he didn't have an active link binding him forever to Gwen – he did have one knotting him to John.

"No, don't go on with that 'Gwen' crap Jack." She snarled. A sharp contrast to the woman he had left behind. "You Abandon us, leave us to fend for ourselves because your precious 'Doctor' showed up. You owe us answers. How? How did you manage to see the bloody end of the world? And who the hell is John Fucking Hart? What did he mean, 'You'd be dead already'? Don't give us the 'I can't tell you' lie Jack. This is something we need to know."

Jack sighed. "I can't."

"Why the Hell not? Jack, don't you lie to me!"

At that, Jack snapped. "I'm Not lying Gwen." He snarled, leveraging himself off the table. His rage kept him standing, kept him glaring down at her, suddenly seeming five inches shorter than she should have been.

"And don't you dare make this about **You** and your fucking god-sent science. I honestly Can Not tell you. There is next to nothing that you NEED to know about John. And I DO need his express permission to tell you everything. There are things that no one should know about another person, and I'm not giving you that Gwen." At that, he turned around, meeting the other pairs of eyes in the room. "Any of you. Now lay off it."

Jack sighed heavily, before his knees gave out. He leaned back against the autopsy table, watching feebly as no one moved to help him. Until, he noticed the flash of movement in his peripheral vision.

"Jack." Ianto almost whispered his acceptance of Jack's statement. Relief washed over Jack as he felt Ianto lift him to his feet, helping him back onto the table.

"Thanks." Jack muttered, leaning forward to balance himself. "You wouldn't want to know any of it anyway." He felt Ianto sit down next to him, before taking his hand. Weakly, he looked up, meeting each pair of eyes in turn. Flaming, accusing, guilty, concerned… each had their turn on his once-friends faces.

"I only know one thing that I can tell you about John without his permission." Jack assented finally, speaking directly to Ianto. "He will be back here soon."

"Why?" Tosh asked, the first thing she had said since she had woken up. "I don't mean to be rude Jack, but… what reasons would he have to come back here?"

"For his stuff." Jack replied simply. "We still have it somewhere. He'll want it back."

Owen snorted. "Knew it. Bastard's probably planning world conquest next."

Jack laughed weakly. "Don't be ludicrous Owen. John isn't THAT type. Though he does know a couple… He will just want it back in the case the Agency manages to track it down. He wouldn't want to start a war with the Shadow Proclamation over him."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "They want him too?" Jack shook his head, grinning.

"No, no! That's not what I meant. The Time Agency has a habit of… checking in on their agents. Even the retired ones. But Cardiff is Neutral Territory, stated by the Shadow Proclamation back in 1670. So, if the Agency traces his gear back here, then they'll want to come back and get him. But the SP has the right to enforce the neutrality. Any interference from other times not based off of materials that appear through the rift results in possibly the biggest Jdoon attack in history. And the Agency… they can draft troops from at least two different decades. This of course…"

"Would be the biggest war in… Ever." Tosh whispered.

"As if." Gwen snorted. "I doubt anyone would be willing to risk WWIII over JOHN. He can't possibly be that high in anyone's books."

Jack sighed. "I would have."

Gwen stood, open mouthed. "Jack, there is no way you ever loved him that much."

"Gwen, that's stupid." Owen responded, remembering all too clearly the lengths he went to protect Katie.

Gwen glanced around, searching for a comrade in any of her co-workers eyes, but all were glaring at her with the coldest expression. All of her co-workers had learned something at that moment – she had never truly been in love. Everyone there had been in love. All of them had been willing to take another's life to protect their love – some had. Two had been willing to give their own for that love. One had.

"Gwen, I don't expect you to understand." Jack breathed, clutching Ianto's hand. "They will want John back. It isn't a matter of whether they like him or not – they NEED him."

"What for?" Tosh wondered. "Jack, from what I've heard of the Time Agency, they seem like the kind who would want to put John behind bars, not…"

Jack swallowed, tears welling up in his eyes at the painful memories from his and John's time in the Agency.

"That's one of the things I have to wait until John's here to tell you." Jack admitted. Gwen opened her mouth, but snapped it shut when Jack held up a hand. "John deserves the right to tell you what he feels is necessary. It isn't my place to tell you any more than what you know already. And nothing will manage to get me to betray his trust."

"What did he do that got him so high in your books?" Owen sneered, examining something in a random file from his desk.

"For one," Jack snarled through clenched teeth. "Owen, he bothered to notice that I went through HELL while I was gone. And he hasn't even seen me in over a hundred and fifty years. So," Jack let his jaw go slack, his eyes burning. "That puts him above most of you in my books."

Ianto started to pull his hand out of Jack's, but Jack tightened his grip, meeting Ianto's eyes.

"Like I said… Most of you." Jack repeated, squeezing Ianto's hand to reassure him that he was the intended person of that statement.

_ ## END FLASHBACK ## _

* * *

><p>John blinked, feeling the blush spread over his face. Weakly, he hung his head, shy to let anyone notice his embarrassment.<p>

"Sure." He muttered, letting Ianto lead him away. Ianto was entirely silent, prompting John to assume that they knew about Jack. He felt the blush deepen, and his voice choked when he spoke.

"I'm sorry."

At that, Ianto froze. "You're sorry for what?"

John swallowed, finally meeting the younger man's eyes.

"Jack."

Ianto shrugged, his face still emotionless. John felt a prick of suspicion at this.

'_Maybe Eye candy didn't love Jack back. Or at least, not as much…'_

After a few seconds, they continued walking. John's eyes fastened once more to his shoes, blearily entranced by the way his laces swayed around his legs as he walked. Some nit-picky part of him longed to knot them back together and tuck them back into his boots, but John found that entirely pointless. It wasn't as if he was really in danger of tripping over them… seeing as the boots came up to his knees. And it didn't matter if he looked like shit. Life had already convinced him that he was.

Of course, this reminder of how horribly inadequate he was at everything he did. His mothers' voice came back to him, sneering at each decision he made after he had **joined** the Agency – at her pleading.

'_I can't talk right for her. I can't dress decently. I can't stay out of trouble… Hell, I can't even walk right.'_

At that thought, an old Genesis song started taunting him.

"_Hot sun beating down/burning my feet just walking around.  
>Hot sun making me sweat'Gators getting close, hasn't got me yet"_

Well, if he wanted to have something after him, John would have preferred Alligators to this place. They were known for ruthlessness.

_"I can't dance, I can't talk/Only thing about me is the way I walk.  
>I can't dance, I can't singI'm just standing here selling everything."_

Nothing he ever did turned out right. All he had wanted was to live, and look how that had turned out. He'd wound up taking other's lives, a crime that even Faliken was innocent of.

_"Blue jeans sitting on the beach/her dog's talking to me, but she's out of reach.  
>She's got a body under that shirtbut all she wants to do is rub my face in the dirt."_

Once again, John was reminded of Jack. Was he still lying there in the pavement? Had his team even bothered to pick him up? Or were they pissed enough at him to leave his body there?

_"Cos, I can't dance, I can't talk/Only thing about me is the way I walk.  
>I can't dance, I can't singI'm just standing here selling."_

Meekly, John let out a small smile, remembering Jack's failed attempts to teach him to do something manageable with his feet. After an hour, he had been dubbed a 'lost cause'.

_"Oh and checking everything is in place/you never know who's looking on.  
>Young punk spilling beer on my shoesfat guy's talking to me trying to steal my blues."_

Right there, John would have been happy to give anyone else his misery. But that wouldn't be fair to the poor sap. They didn't have the decades of experience keeping it in check he did.

_"Thick smoke, see her smiling through/I never thought so much could happen just shooting pool.  
>But I can't dance, I can't talkThe only thing about me is the way that I walk.  
>I can't dance, I can't singI'm just standing here selling"_

It was supposed to be easy. Get the canisters, put them together, and then swear goodbye to the universe. It was obscene for John to think that he could just end it all that quickly.

_"Oh and checking everything is in place/You never know who's looking on  
>A perfect body with a perfect face."<em>

Meekly, John felt Ianto's hand on his arm. Clenching his fists in his pockets, John forced himself to look up: to meet the eyes of the people he had tormented. What he saw would leave him with tears in his dreams for years to come.

_"No, I can't dance, I can't talk/The only thing about me is the way I walk.  
>No, I can't dance, I can't singI'm just standing here selling everything."_

"Hey John." Jack smiled, starting to get up from the autopsy table.

John's mouth fell open, and fresh, newly prompted tears leeched into this vision. Jack… wasn't dead? How… why…

"Jack?" He finally managed to gasp, leaning against the railing and grasping it hard enough to leave indents.

Jack nodded, smirking – more at John's mental stupor than his reaction. {John… I think it's safe to chat.}

John swallowed, blinking the tears from his eyes. [I – I don't…]

"It's really you right? Not some Karmatic joke Typqu plotted to get revenge against me? Promise?"

Jack snickered, crossing his arms. "Of course John. You know I never bought into the concept of religion, so why would the goddess of karma want to resurrect me, of all people?"

John let out a brief, damp grin. "It's the goddess of Justice, but I think she'll forgive you." He choked back another sob.

Before anyone else had a chance to blink, John vaulted over the railing, landing smoothly in front of Jack. Meekly, he reached out, feeling the man in front of him – for no reason than to assure himself that Jack was actually alive, standing in front of him.

John grinned, feeling the solid form of Jack beneath his fingers, and being positive that Jack was 100% alive. With this small comfort tucked away in his mind, John gripped Jack in a hug tight enough to suffocate.

Once again, the tears came. But now, he felt the warmth of Jack's hands running along his spine, soothing away all doubts and thoughts he had. His world was right again.

"Jack… I'm sorry." John confessed. "I'm so, so sorry. I … I didn't know… I didn't realize that you, you were that close to edge.

[I lost control of it. I let it go. It got to me.]

"I… I thought … I thought that if … damn, I was just so fucking pissed… I'm Sorry."

[I failed you.]

"Shhh… John. It doesn't matter. You're sorry, that's more important." Jack sighed, holding John close.

{You never failed me. I failed You. I'm the one that's sorry.}

John hesitated, clutching Jack closer. He shivered, feeling Jack's breath in his ear.

"It means that you aren't completely gone."

He smiled weakly. Right at that moment, he had no clue which goddess to thank. As his racing heart picked up Jack's steady pulse, he determined that he should just thank all of them, because he doubted any one alone could have pulled off a miracle on this scale… well, except…

"Damn it Jack." He swore, pulling back just enough to meet Jack's eyes. "Zol must really love you, to have blessed you like that."

"It isn't a blessing." Jack murmured, his grip slackening. John swallowed, forcing himself to let go of Jack. He pulled back, holding Jack at arm's length.

"What do you mean?"

Jack's eyes went to the floor. "It's a curse."

John blinked, confused. [Jack… how do you mean… what?]

Tiredly, Jack prompted John to sit down. John felt his heart plummet into his stomach. Jack only had _That_ expression when he explained something important… the last time had been when he had told John about Grey.

"John… I can't die. Ever."

John felt dizzy, lightheaded and nauseated at the same time. The way Jack had said it. 'I can't die, _Ever_.'

"How?" He wondered aloud, not really wanting to know how this change had come over his friend.

"I met the Doctor." Jack sighed, sitting down next to him on the table. "Things got out of hand. Last thing I remember…" Jack glanced around, as if unsure if he wanted the others to know. But Gwen's eyes hardened. John met her glare for Jack, hardening his own. Only a fraction of his meanest glare made her back off. John snorted, gesturing to Jack that he could very well continue, after muttering,

"Pussy."

Jack swallowed. "Uh, I – I was facing three Daleks. I – I ran out of bullets, and I was alone. Everyone else was dead… and I…" Jack sighed, staring determinedly at the wall. "I died."

John instinctively slid closer. Gently, he gripped Jack's hand, squeezing it encouragingly. At that moment, the rest of the room ceased to be there. It was just the two of them, talking in all ways they knew how, alone.

"Then – our friend, Rose… she, opened up the heart of the TARDIS." John's eyes went wide.

[Girl's got guts.]

{She didn't know what would happen.}

"And… she brought me back. But … she was only – only nineteen. She couldn't control it." Jack started to cry, his gaze traveling to the floor. "She brought me back forever." Jack wiped his eyes, looking at John finally.

"It's been over a hundred and fifty years since I last saw you, John."

His mouth fell open.

"Over … over a century?" Jack nodded. "Well," John searched for an eloquent term. "Wow. Just… wow." He blinked, still wrapping his head around the concept. Of course, his natural flirting instincts took over for his lack of brainpower. "But still, you look pretty damn good for someone working on a bicentennial."

Jack finally laughed. "True. I do, don't I? But John, I swear…" He shook his head, grinning. "If you're cursed, I'm damned to hell." John smirked.

"I doubt that."

Jack looked at him, serious now. "Really, John. I mean it. There's only one thing I can think of that could possibly be good about this."

John's heart stopped, as Jack explained his point to him.

{I can't Die. EVER.} John swallowed, bile coming up his throat at the feeling growing between them. Hope.

[No.] John refused, picking up what Jack meant.

{John, if you won't get help, this … this is a good thing.}

[That's sick. It's disgusting. No. No, I won't.]

{John… think about it.}

[Never.] John snapped. Then, he spoke aloud, making Owen take a step back at the determination in his voice.

"Never. Jack. I will NEVER kill you again." He snarled. "Ever. That's final. No."

Gwen's voice interrupted their tense moment – only two or three octaves higher than it should have been.

"Kill you? Jack, you can't be seriously considering LETTING him kill you!"

Jack sighed. "It's none of your business Gwen. Who or what I'm willing to die for is my decision, not yours."

However, that just fueled Gwen's need to be in charge. "No it isn't Jack. We need you intact. Not in pieces all over the floor because that Freak took a knife to you."

John felt tears pricking at his eyes. [I would never… not even if I lost it, I could never. Jack, I wouldn't]

{I know John. I know.}

"Gwen, it's just another thing I don't expect you to understand." Jack responded aloud, meeting the pale woman's eyes. "I'll just assume you wouldn't be willing to do the same for Rhys."

Gwen's resolve waivered, before disappearing completely. "Alright Jack."

Then, she found a new thing to pick at. John contemplated just how much like a bird she was. If she found a seed of a lie or rumor, she would pick at it until you bled. Once that seed was gone, she would nit-pick at another, and another. Much like a blue jay.

"John's here. Now you owe us explanations." Gwen demanded, glaring between the two men.

John panicked, his gaze darting around the room. "Jack?" He wondered, his voice wavering.

"I told them that I needed to say anything." Jack confessed, shrugging. "And that's up to you."

[Bite me.]

{I assumed as much.}

"Well, I guess as long as nobody's going to let me leave, I should tell you _some_ things." John shrugged, jumping off the table. "Starting with the cylinders. Am I right?"

That comment was met with definite nods.

* * *

><p>John sighed, spouting the first lie that came to mind.<p>

Later, he would have realized that it was completely preposterous: him, needing a tracking device to find a bloody diamond? As if he needed the money. Jack could have seen straight through it if he looked hard enough, but right now, Jack wasn't scrutinizing John.

Of course, the others bought it entirely. Clearly Jack hadn't explained any of his earlier lies either. Which worked out well. None of them would be particularly keen to save him. Yeah, it worked out well. None of them would bear any guilt if this went to plan.

John just had to keep his head. Keep the darkness locked inside him in the farthest corner of his mind, bury it behind walls and locks. That was the only hard part. He had to fight back the growing urges coming from behind the bricks laid in his subconscious, at least until he managed to get away and end this. It wasn't too far away.

John fingers trembled ever so slightly as put the pieces of the device together. Finally, as he slid the third piece in place, he stepped back. The whole group watched, expectant, as a hologram shimmered into life. Jack's mouth opened slightly, clearly planning on saying something, but he seemed to forget. Gwen glared at John accusingly. He swallowed, trying to moisten his dry mouth, as the hologram continued to speak, and the pyramid opened.

'_This is it.'_ John sighed to himself. _'This is it. I'm going to finally get what I deserve.'_ He squared his shoulders, forcing a brief grin as he steeled his nerves. _'I wish Jack would stop looking at me like that. It makes me feel like more a freak than I am.' _

The instant before the pyramid opened fully, John prayed that he hadn't misjudged Natalie. Would she have – his fears were assuaged as the bomb glowed and dug into his skin. Oh, yeah. He had judged Nat completely right.

As the explosive device attached itself to John's chest, he finally met Jack's eyes. John involuntarily took a step back, surprised at what he saw. Rather than the rage he had expected, Jack's eyes were soft, compassionate.

{You knew.}

John shifted his eyes, reluctant to respond. [Sort of…]

While they continued their conversation, the rest of the team was panicking. John rolled his eyes at their over-reaction. Honestly, one fucking explosive. That isn't the end of the world.

"John! You said it was a dying woman's request!" Gwen squealed, killing half of John's hearing.

"Yes, she was dying." He snorted. "I shot her."

{John…}

[Right. Now, about THAT comment…]

"You didn't actually shoot her, did you?" Jack assumed, leaning forward. John shrugged.

"Either way, I killed her."

[Jack, just let me do this. Please.]

{No.}

John allowed his gaze to wander around the room, reluctantly taking stock of what was going on. Tosh was rapidly typing some algorithm or other into her computer, muttering to herself. Owen stood back, his gun drawn and doubtlessly aimed at the center of his head – a thought John rapidly put out of his mind. Gwen was (predictably) screaming about something or other … he heard something about 'I knew it'…

Finally, John's eyes came to rest on Ianto. The young man stood in the corner, almost as serenely as John stood. His eyes were suspicious, and dark, as if he knew something about everything. Then again, as Jack had insisted, perhaps he did. John felt a small pull, tightening in his stomach, as his gaze traveled over the Welshman's perfect body. It was good; if John was someone else, he would have probably said Ianto was the sexiest thing he had ever met. But he wasn't. This was John Hart, and there was already a being taking that slot.

John snapped back to reality, as the device dug into his skin deeper. He felt blood trickle down his chest, coating the metal of the explosive.

**Blood. **That must have been what set him off. Because at that second, his dark, uncontrollable consciousness took over, forcing John into the prison he had trapped it in. The sounds and wailing alarms faded, as if dulled by sleep.

All that happened next felt like it was happening to another person.

John snapped handcuffs around his and Gwen's wrists, holding up their hands to pose the threat. By the way Jack straightened up, crossing his arms, John knew that the message had been received.

{John, you don't have to hurt Gwen} Jack practically pleaded, even though he knew that it wasn't John in control any more.

As John felt his mouth open, some blurry words falling out, he was drowning in tears.

[I – I can't Stop it Jack.] Jack froze, held in place by John's continued words. [Save her. Not me. I hope you manage to save her. She doesn't deserve to be punished because of me. ]

{John, you don't -}

[Yes, I do Jack.]

At that, Gwen began to drag him out of the office. The last thing John managed to glimpse through the stranger's eyes was Jack, leaning heavily on his desk.

* * *

><p><strong>DEATH_(Mini AN: This part is ****CRUCIAL****… so you'll have to live with Jack X Johnness. Or you'll get lost) **

Jack snapped into motion, dragging Owen out of the room with him. Rapidly, the two began making a cocktail of blood samples.

"I honestly hope that this works." Owen muttered. Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Are you actually concerned about John?" He wondered, amused.

"As if." Owen snorted. "I just don't want him taking out half the city."

Jack sighed. How had he given his team such a negative impression of John? Oh, yeah… He'd dragged the poor man's name through shit because of that random kid. Right.

Jack mentally reminded himself to ask Ianto to get the 'Gwen-pleasing' part of him to burn in hell. He was sick of changing everything – his style, his job, how he dealt with aliens – just to keep the bitch from _crying_. John was right. Gwen was a pussy. She wasn't built for this kind of Job.

"Owen, you'll be okay for five seconds?" Owen nodded, confirming Jack's statement, as he packed a med-bag.

Jack raced up the stairs, tearing through the Hub until he managed to get into his office. He paused briefly to grab something off his desk, shove it in his pocket, then raced back downstairs. Owen was done packing by the time he was back.

"Ready?" Jack asked. Owen nodded, and they set out.

* * *

><p>John swallowed, visibly calm as he stared out the window. But his eyes weren't watching the scenery. Inside his mind, he was battling furiously with himself.<p>

'_You can't go through with this!'_

'_Yes, I can. And I will.'_

'_It's wrong!'_

'_So am I.'_

'_You have to be crazy!'_

'_Maybe I am.' _

'_Freak.'_

'_Hypocrite.'_

'_At least I didn't plan this.'_

'_If You had, my life would have been better.'_

'_Failure. You couldn't even pull it through!'_

'_It's almost over. Then you can kill me again.'_

'_Nothing would please me more.'_

'_Nothing would please __Niklo more than to hear that.' _

Suddenly, John's link with Jack came alive. He winced, but settled down as he recognized the noise now resonating through his mind. John almost let out a laugh, but settled for a small smile.

"_In Your Book Of Broken Hearts/You Had My Name Now The Story Starts"_

* * *

><p>(55 seconds ago…) Jack sighed leaning against the window. Owen glanced at him.<p>

"So, what are you planning on doing?" The young doctor wondered, glancing from Jack to the Mp3 player he held.

"It was something… John and I did it a while back." Jack admitted, correcting his statement before it got too far. "I'm just hoping he manages to hear it."

"What, you two linked or something?" Owen had unknowingly stated exactly the right answer.

"Yeah." Jack smiled softly. "And I think I know exactly what's going through his mind right now." Jack slid one headphone into his ear, setting it to the one song that he remembered clearly from his and John's time in the Agency… the good parts of it.

* * *

><p>"<em>We'll Never Be The Same Again I Know"<em>

John bit his lip, remembering just how much he and Jack had changed. It was his fault Jack had gone. It was his fault their lives had fallen to pieces.

"_I'm A Victim Of Circumstance/I'm The One That Got The Second Chance  
>One Chance... That's All I NeedAnd I Won't Let Go"_

John started grasping at straws – dragging old memories that had long grown dusty to the front of his mind. He had to keep his resolve. He had to find something to fight back against the desire forcing his movements.

"_Now You've Got To Understand I'm Ready/I Won't Be Denied  
>This Lonely Heart Must Be Satisfied"<em>

John felt his pulse speeding up, matching the feverish pace of the images in his head. This had used to be one of his and Jack's Things… they would always play it.  
>He longed to feel Jack in his arms again, to hear those three soft words fall from his lips once again before he died… but that wouldn't happen.<p>

"_You Lie Waiting Far Across The Sea/Wild Horses Could Never Stop Me  
>The Highest Mountain Ain't High Enough<br>I Won't Give Up, Gonna Take You Prisoner Of Love"_

He had sworn to Jack – and Jack had turned that oath back to him. John promised that he would never let anything or anyone hurt him, as long as he was strong enough to fight back. And he had broken that promise. If there was one thing John would have done before he died, it was hunt down the Bastard that had hurt Jack, and kill him. Slowly.

"_Calling All Dreamers/Every Heart Broken Fool  
>Doing What I Can But Love Is Cruel<br>The Highest Mountain Ain't High Enough  
>I Won't Give Up, Gonna Take You Prisoner Of Love"<em>

Weakly, John laughed. He would always tell Jack that. _'I can't let you leave' 'why not?' 'Because, you're my prisoner' '… then why aren't I tied up, John babe?' _John would just grin, planting one lyric from the song in Jack's mind. If only he had remembered that before Jack left. Love really was cruel.

"_You Took The Magic Of The Silver Screen  
>You've Got The LookThat Dreams Are Made Of  
>I'll Do AnythingTo Make My Dreams Come True"_

John shuddered. His last dream before Jack left him summoned itself to his memory. It had lied. There had been no end to the pain, only innumerable more levels of torture.

"_Now Turn This City Upside Down/I Comb The Streets Of Every Lonely Town  
>I'll Never Rest, I'm A Man PossessedI Need Love From You  
>"I Know You've Got It There And I Want ItI Won't Be Denied  
>Your Lonely Heart Will Be Satisfied" <em>

John shivered again, bizarrely entranced at how well the old song Jack and he happened to like fit their situation. He had spent nearly every waking moment of his dreaming about Jack. What they would do once he found him… how their lives would go after he got out of the hell of rehab. And once he was out, John was possessed by the concept of finding Jack. Nothing was more important to him than finding his partner.

"_You Lie Waiting Far Across The Sea/Wild Horses Could Never Stop Me  
>The Highest Mountain Ain't High Enough<br>I'm Coming Back, Gonna Take You Prisoner Of Love"_

John had sworn that he would find Jack. He had, but not in the way either of them had thought. John never let anything get between him and those he loved. But did Jack ever really feel the same? Or was it just one huge ploy? The Agency had done far worse that drag his heart around. When was the last time he had heard Jack directly say 'I love You'?

"_Calling All Dreamers/Every Heart Broken Fool  
>Doing What I Can But Love Is Cruel<br>The Highest Mountain Ain't High Enough  
>I Won't Give Up, Gonna Take You Prisoner Of Love"<em>

'_There's nothing, either the time Agency, or life, or the universe, or Zol herself can put between us that will stop me from being with you.' _John bit back more tears, recalling when Jack had said that to him. The first time he had ever gotten a Goddess's name right. It was a lie, like most things that he had said. But John had always treasured every word Jack murmured to him in the middle of the night. Every promise they had sworn to each other, that they would never be apart, that they would always love, that they would fight for each other until they lost their own lives… After Jack abandoned him, John learned never to trust feeble promises ever again. Everyone lied.

"_Calling All Dreamers/Every Heart Broken Fool  
>Doing What I Can But Love Is Cruel<br>The Highest Mountain Ain't High Enough  
>I'm Coming Back, Gonna Take You Prisoner Of Love"<em>

Love never left you intact. It always gored out your heart, then left you to bleed. Much like Jack had. John could feel Jack's embarrassment at that stanza. He laughed silently.  
>[Who would've thought…]<br>{If we had, maybe this wouldn't have happened.}  
>[You know that's not possible. Timelines and all that.]<br>{Yeah.} John could've sworn he heard a sniff. {Timelines.}  
>[You wanna' talk about it?]<br>{Says the man on death row.}

"_Baby, I'll Be Sailing Far Across The Sea/Wild Horses Could Never Stop Me  
>The Highest Mountain Ain't High Enough<br>I Won't Give Up, Gonna Take You Prisoner Of Love  
>I'm Coming Back, Gonna Take You Prisoner Of Love"<em>

At that moment, the car stopped. Gwen dragged John out of the backseat, out onto the rooftop. John stumbled slightly, trying frantically to keep up with Gwen's pace. He could feel the key lodged in the lining of his throat, digging deep into his muscle.

He glanced sideways at Gwen. She stood, her shoulders square, physically unafraid of dying.

'_Or so she thinks.'_ John mused to himself. _'Gwen isn't anywhere near close to facing her own death.'_

"Gwen, stop the act." He sneered at her. "Trust me, you'll do well not to try."

John blinked, surprised that that had worked. He had control of at least his vocal chords again. But before he managed to have any advantage, he control was blocked once more.

'_You can't kill yourself. It's wrong.'_

'_Live with it. Nat wouldn't have made a faulty bomb, and there's no way anyone's getting me out of this one.'_

'_Then why is Jack coming?'_

John honestly couldn't answer that one. Was it to gloat? To dance on his grave? Or did Jack actually…no. That was entirely out of the question. Jack wouldn't try to stop him. If he did, that would mean John had judged him wrong, and he never read people wrong.

{Well, this time you did John.}

John winced slightly, regretting not having put his barriers up.

'_But do I really want to block Jack from my mind again?' _He wondered._ 'It was hell last time.'_

{John… we're almost there. Just, don't do anything stupid.}

[Right.] He snapped. [Everything I do is stupid Jack, admit it. I can't ever do anything right for anyone.]

{That's not true!}

[Prove. Me. Wrong.]

Jack was silent. Then, as if on an afterthought, he started to tune John in to what he was listening to.

"_Guess that it was bound to happen  
>Was just a matter of time<br>But now I've come to my decision  
>And it's a-one of the painful kind"<em>

John smiled weakly, feeling more in control of his own actions with every word. Jack's desperation began to bleed through with the melody.  
>But John had already made up his mind. There was no turning back. He HAD to do this, to put all those innumerable souls to rest. He couldn't avenge their murders, but he could take out the guilty party – Himself.<p>

"_'Cause now it seems that you wanted a martyr  
>Just a regular guy wouldn't do<br>But baby I can't hang upon no lover's cross for you"_

He couldn't risk the pain of loving again. It would be worse than anything. To fall in love, then have it torn from you. Fall in love, bleed to death. Fall in love, die a little. Fall in love, kill yourself again. A never ending cycle. John wasn't about to infect anyone else with his disease. No one deserved that. Jack was a saint to stay with him for all that time, but John had wised up. Jack was the sole exception to majority rule.

"_Yes, I really got to hand it to you  
>'Cause girl you really tried<br>But for ev'ry time that we spent laughin'  
>There were two times that I cried<br>And you were tryin' to make me your martyr  
>And that's the one thing I just couldn't do<br>'Cause baby, I can't hang upon no lover's cross for you"_

Jack and Owen arrived at that moment.

"John!" Jack screamed, trying to run up to him.

John sighed, meeting Jack's eyes. "I won't make you give up anything for me."

With that profound concept tearing through the group's minds, John grabbed Gwen, pulling out a scrap of cloth. After holding it over her mouth for a few seconds, he let go, catching her as her knees collapsed. Reaching into the back of his mouth, John pulled the key out of his throat.

Meekly, he grinned, meeting Jack's eyes for a second.

"She didn't have to go through this." He admitted, laying the unconscious woman on the ground.

"John…" Jack pleaded, stepping closer. "You don't have to… Why?"

John smirked, taking two steps backwards.

"_'Cause tables are meant for turnin'  
>And people are bound to change<br>And bridges are meant for burnin'  
>When the people and mem'ries they join aren't the same"<em>

"I changed." John admitted. [Jack, please, don't try to stop me. I need this.]

{Why?}

"I'm not good anymore." He shrugged. "Please, Jack… I have to do this while I still can."

_"So I'll hope that you can find  
>Another who can take what I could not<br>He'll have to be a super guy  
>Or maybe a super god<br>'Cause I never was much of a martyr before  
>And I ain't 'bout to start nothin' new<br>And baby, I can't hang upon no lover's cross for you"_

"Ianto." John called out, meeting the young man's eyes.

"Yes?"

"I meant it." John nodded, smiling despite the tears of loss in his eyes. "Jack loves you." He watched Ianto's hardened demeanor crack slightly. "Take care of him."

At that, his voice cracked. It hurt, terribly, impossibly, to hand over the one person you love to another, but he had to. He didn't have anything that Jack needed. All he would be is another bridge to burn.

"_'Cause tables are meant for turnin'  
>And people are bound to change<br>And bridges are meant for burnin'  
>When the people and mem'ries they join aren't the same"<em>

John took another step back, glancing around him. Gwen lay peacefully on the ground. Owen held Tosh close, as if trying to protect her. Ianto watched him intently, as if he wanted to say something, but knew better. Jack just stood, tears streaming down his face.

"What about me?" He demanded, shouting over the silence. "John, Don't-" Jack swallowed, forcing the words out. All the while, John continued to step backwards, until he was right on the edge of the building.

"Don't leave me. Please!"

The scales would finally be balanced again.

[Jack…]

"_So I'll hope that you can find  
>Another who can take what I could not<br>He'll have to be a super guy  
>Or maybe a super god<br>'Cause I never was much of a martyr before  
>And I ain't 'bout to start nothin' new<br>And baby, I can't hang upon no lover's cross for you"_

[I'm Sorry.] He took a step backwards.

"John!"

* * *

><p>Jack was across the roof faster than any human could normally move. He grabbed John, yanking him back from the edge and to the ground. Before John had a chance to move, Jack had him pinned down. John struggled weakly, trying to throw Jack off. But he was about twenty pounds too small to manage it.<p>

Jack pulled out a syringe, and praying to … whatever goddess John would in this situation (He didn't have time to try and remember), he plunged the needle into John's heart. At that moment, a rift spike snapped the world backwards. The sky turned black, time rewinding to the second John had appeared in this time.

John's eyes snapped open, staring directly into the damp, deep blue eyes of Jack. He gasped, trying to breathe around the needle in his chest. With a last flicker, the explosive deactivated, clattering uselessly to the ground.

"What…"

Jack grinned weakly, getting up so that John could breathe without his body weight on top of him.

"I couldn't just let you blow yourself up." Jack smirked, offering John a hand. Unsteadily, John took it, letting Jack haul him to his feet.

Amazed at how he had survived, John took a couple steps back, meeting each of the angry eyes staring at him. John felt a blush color his face, and he stared at his shoes.

"How… Why?" He finally managed to phrase, gazing around him. Hadn't it been morning a few seconds ago?

Owen spoke up. "An injection of all of our blood samples directly into the heart." He explained, holding Tosh closer. "Temporarily corrupted your DNA.

[Now I'm even more of a freak.]

{John… you know that that isn't true.}

"So now I have a little bit of all of you in me?" He asked, feeling sick at the thought. "Yuck. That mean's I've got _Gwen _in my blood."

Jack snickered. "Something like that. And as for Why…"

"I think I got that." John interrupted, glancing at the stars above him. It was amazing that humanity thought that they were so peaceful. They weren't. There were massive wars going on. John bit his lip, before speaking.

"I … I guess I should be going." John muttered, daring only one glance at Jack.

His face was entirely disbelief. {Well, I didn't expect that.}

"Yeah…" Jack sighed finally. "You probably should." Jack bit his lip, clearly wanting to say something more, but unable to. "If you hurry, you can use the excess Rift energy for your Jump."

{You don't have to.}

[Like you said Jack. I'm dangerous.]

John nodded solemnly at the others, lifting his wrist to set the co-ordinates. If he couldn't end it the easy way, then he'd just have to take the hard road. Without thinking, he set his VM to his once-home.

[Take care of them.]

'_I can never go home. Ever. It would be suicide.'_ John remembered himself thinking, before he pressed in the final command.

Steeling himself, John typed in the last chain of codes. Shyly, he smiled at Jack.

"See you along the river to Ezihsk, babe." John smirked, activating the wormhole. As the gap in reality opened behind him, his smile dropped, and he said plainly,

"I found Grey."

With that, he disappeared.

* * *

><p>Jack blinked, staring at the spot his former loverpartner/best friend had stood a second before. John's words rang through his ears.

'_I found Grey.'_

Was it possible? Could John have found Grey? Could his baby brother really be alive after all this time?

"Jack, what did he mean?" Gwen questioned. "Who's Grey?"

Jack shrugged, dispersing his thoughts. "It's nothing."

At that, he turned around, heading for the SUV. Jack opened his mouth to say something, when he froze. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and a cold sweat went down his spine. He knew those signs.

Jack turned back around, just in time to see another wormhole flash into life. However, this one snapped out of reality a millisecond after it opened.

In its place, was John.

* * *

><p>Océane: Pauvre John!<p>

John: - Usted miente idiota… -

Océane: Did you literally just call me a lying idiot in Spanish! That Isn't nice! Méchante

John: Whatever. Océane want's reviews. If you don't, she won't post again. Ever!

Océane: That's right! Now Review!


	9. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Océane: well, yeah. Here's the chapter, I own nothing but the plot, and don't sue.

John: you're mopey today.

Océane: congrats. Give the idiot a metal. Sorry I've been MIA… My mom put me on probation from FanFiction. Which leads me to explaining the rating. It's M. Live with it.

John: ooohhh… somebody got busted. Wait, let me guess: your mom… *Interrupted*

Océane: Wanted: assistance character who has a brain and self-preservation instincts. Here's the fic. Don't like don't read.

DEATH_

Reappearance and answers

_Jack turned back around, just in time to see another wormhole flash into life. However, this one snapped out of reality a millisecond after it opened. _

_In its place, was John._

John lay on the ground, sobbing weakly. He didn't notice that he had moved, or even that there were people there. All he knew was that he felt pain. And a lot of it.

Jack ran over, kneeling down beside John. He couldn't speak, couldn't even think of what question to ask first. With shaking hands, Jack reached out, trying to touch John's shoulder. The moment John felt Jack's presence, he curled tighter into a knot, clutching his legs to his chest in an attempt to protect himself. Finally, Jack swallowed, whispering one word.

"John…"

John blinked, biting his lip to hold in his tears. It didn't work, and soon, tears were streaming down his face. It was all just too much for him. Pain, death, pain, joy, freedom. There wasn't anything he could do anymore. All he managed around the soreness of his body was roll over, meeting Jack's eyes.

Once again, John started crying. "Jack…" He moaned, pausing to cough. John blinked, tasting the metallic tang of blood in his mouth. Shit.

Jack smiled weakly. John shut his eyes, lest Jack disappear again. He felt a soft touch, gently lifting him into a sitting position. John shuddered, pressing his mind towards Jack's. But a sharp, piercing ringing shot down his hopes.

John buried his face in Jack's shirt, unable to do much more than cry. He felt so damn useless. Unable to speak, unable to move, unable to even breathe without feeling like there was a knife in his side. Jack ran his hands along John's sides, freezing when John winced. It was then that Jack's eyes adjusted to the darkness, and he noticed just how bad of a shape John was in.

"John…" Jack managed to choke out, lifting the other man's face so he could examine the expression. "What happened?"

It wasn't really a question, but John couldn't answer it. He swallowed, meeting Jack's eyes. He pulled his head away, placing it once more on the soft, comforting material of Jack's shirt. He smelled nice, and right. The thought soothed John, enough that he managed to think something coherent.

'_Nothing you need to be concerned with babe.'_ Whether or not Jack heard him, it didn't matter. One lie was the same as all the others.

Jack sighed, indicating that he had indeed heard him.

"John, this is important. What Happened?"

John shook his head again, wincing as the ringing returned. Damn it. His head must have gotten banged up pretty bad if it was affecting their link. Then again, hadn't all of him?

"Jack! Why's he back here?" Gwen screamed, having woken up. John winced again, clutching at Jack's suspenders. He didn't have to speak – Jack knew him well enough that he understood.

'_Hide me.' _

"Gwen," Jack replied calmly, and quietly enough that John didn't feel like his head was going to explode. "Shut up please."

Shocked, Gwen obeyed. John relaxed, squeezing his eyes shut and praying that he wouldn't cry anymore. Only children cried. That's what _they_ had told him. Tenderly, Jack traced the side of John's face, wiping away the stray tear.

"John, please." Jack begged. "Tell me what happened. Please."

John swallowed, hoping that his voice would work.

"I went home. And…" he shuddered, forcing the memories out of his head. "And I hadn't done what they wanted. The Agency was pissed. My mother and father were furious. They told me…"

John let his voice die. Jack didn't need to know everything he had learned.

Jack let out a soft breath. "Alright John. I won't ask." Cautiously, Jack shifted his grip, so that he could lift John. "I'm going to pick you up, alright?"

John clutched him tighter. _'Don't leave me. Please. They'll come back for me if you leave me.'_

The tears came again. Silently, John cursed himself. _'Weakling. Can't even take a beating without bursting into tears. You should've been a girl. Just another thing wrong with you.'_

Jack sighed, taking John into his arms and carrying him over top the SUV.

"John, close your eyes." He requested gently. John glanced up, confused. Jack smiled kindly. "The light will hurt if it hits your eyes."

Obediently, John shut his eyes, trusting Jack not to do anything. The others, not so much.

"Owen." Jack called out softly, placing John down next to the Range Rover. "Can you get the Med-bag out of the back?" Owen made some response, but John only heard Jack's growled reply.

"I'm not expecting you to Owen. That's why **I'M** taking care of him." John shivered, cuddling closer to Jack's body heat.

"Shh, it's alright John." Jack soothed, combing his fingers through John's hair. "You can open your eyes now."

John blinked, adjusting his eyes to the light. Distrustful, he glanced around the group, releasing Jack's shirt. All eyes were on him. All held nothing that spoke well for him. John bit back a sob, drawing his knees up to his chin. He pulled himself into the tightest ball he could, wishing that that would protect him from their glares, like it did from a beating.

Owen placed a backpack next to Jack, snorting. "I don't even know why you still care about the freak."

John's heart dropped. That's what he was, after all. If the man and woman who had raised him thought that he was cursed, why should anyone else think differently? Why should Jack think differently?

To John's surprise, Jack was on his feet before Owen had even finished his statement.

"Never say that about him again." Jack ordered. John's head snapped up in shock, to watch Jack's expression. Jack's eyes blazed, and it was clear that he was resisting the urge to slug Owen one hell of one in the eye.

"Ever." Jack snapped. Owen blinked, taken aback by Jack's tone.

"Alright." He spat out, eyes wide.

Jack growled. "Get the hell out of my sight. Now. And don't come back until you're ready to take it back."

Owen shrugged, moving to the other side of the SUV. It was clear that he wouldn't be back for a while. Jack sat down next to John once more, addressing the remains of the team.

"Any of you that think the same way as him can do the same."

One by one, the other three left, until it was just Jack and John sitting there. Tosh was the last one to leave, her hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes.

When Jack spoke again, his voice was soft. "John, I need to be able to take care of you. I promise, I'll be quick. But I need to be able to see where your hurt." Jack smiled softly, placing one hand on John's knee. "I need you to get yourself out of that knot so I can actually see what I'm dealing with, alright?"

Tiredly, John nodded. To tell the truth, he was exhausted. So he didn't put up any resistance to Jack's examination. After nearly every inch of his body had been bandaged, splinted, or coated in iodine, John moaned.

"You aren't going to ask me to talk again, are you?"

Jack sat back on his heels, smiling kindly. "Only if you'll talk to me about it."

John sighed, pulling his knees up to his chest, but wincing as he did so. Jack smiled again.

"I suggest you don't do that," He placed a hand on John's knee, gently pressing them back to the ground. "Until we have a chance to get you under the scanner."

John nodded weakly, then snapped upright as Jack stood.

"Where are you going?" He demanded, grabbing Jack's hand. Jack sighed.

"I'm just going to talk to the others. I swear, if you need anything, I'll be able to hear you perfectly."

John bit his lip, but nodded. He wasn't entirely comfortable with Jack leaving, but he managed to settle himself. Jack took off his coat, and wrapped it around John's shoulders.

"I'll be right back. I promise."

With that, he walked around the SUV, where the others could be heard talking. John leaned back, listening to their conversation.

"He's in pretty bad shape." Jack admitted, despite the fact John hadn't heard anyone ask. "From what I can tell, he's got at least three cracked ribs, four broken fingers, a snapped wrist, and a fractured collarbone and tibia." Jack paused for a breath. "He's also got a nasty cut down his side, I think he has a concussion and god knows what other damage internally. The rest are just relatively minor cuts and bruises."

Tosh spoke, almost too quietly for John to hear. "Why would anyone do that? And how? He was only gone for a second."

"Tosh, if I knew that, then I wouldn't be working for Torchwood." Jack admitted. "All I can assume is that his parents had something to do with it. And as for how… I'd say that… to him, he was gone for at least an hour. His VM must have saved these co-ordinates, so when he tried to Jump, it sent him here."

"I have a more important question." Gwen piped up. John grinned bitterly. He'd been waiting for her to speak.

"What Gwen?" Jack asked, as if admitting defeat before he even started.

"Why the hell are you even taking care of him?" She demanded. John's heart stopped dead, more tears climbing from his eyes. Gwen continued to complain.

"I mean, he did try to kill us all. And he almost destroyed Cardiff. Why do you want to help him? Isn't this what he deserves?"

John gasped for air, the temporary wall he had erected to keep back his memories snapping.

'_This is what you deserve. Freak. You ruined everything.' His mother sneered, held tightly in her husband's arms. _

'_You never really were our son.'_

_John couldn't breathe. Every movement felt like he was burning alive. _

'_What…'_

'_You're a freak.' His brother laughed – no, not his brother. Not anymore. Never his brother. Another lie. Everything a lie. 'You always deserved this. Since you were first born you were cursed.'_

_John's mother – no. Not mother. Not his mom. John didn't have a mom anymore. John's family died. They had always been dead. She nodded. _

_John felt still more of his blood smear across the floor, his brother – no, not his brother – press harder into him. Unable to breathe, to speak, even to think, John screamed. _

John's eyes snapped open. Dumbly, he searched his surroundings. Then, reality came back to him. He set his head back against the SUV, his pulse pounding.

He didn't have a family anymore. He was wrong. A toy for the Time Agency to test. A thing to be used. That was the only reason _They_ had taken him. They wanted him to bring their family into the limelight. They wanted their son to be married to a celebrity.

John swallowed, slamming another wall back up, stronger this time. He didn't need to remember. It was over. He would heal, time would take it away, and his once-family would fade, like murder rehab had. Like high school had. Like Jack had.

John felt nauseous, as he began to listen to the other's conversation once more. Owen was speaking.

"Sorry Jack. I'm not treating him. No matter how hard you beg me. No."

"Owen!" Tosh cried. John closed his eyes. She sounded like she was crying. "You can't just let him die!"

"The hell I can't."

"Then you're worse than him." Tosh replied. Owen was silent. "Owen, if you won't do one damn decent thing to help another human being, then you don't deserve that medical degree. And if I'm the only one here that can see he's in pain, then you're all blind, or stupid. I don't know which."

Jack sighed. "I was going to say something else, but I think Tosh has covered everything."

Finally, Ianto spoke. "Why?" then, he clarified his statement, so as not to be asking the same rude question as Gwen. "Why did he act like that, happy one minute, then miserable the next?"

"John…" Jack searched for the right term. John bit his lip, toughing through the pain to stand. This wasn't Jack's to explain. It was his.

"He isn't a freak. He isn't wrong. Hell, he isn't even crazy." By the silence following that statement, John could tell none of the others believed him. "John is normal." Jack insisted. "He's just sick. He just needs help. And we're the only ones that can help him."

"Why is it our job?" Gwen demanded. "Surely there's some nut house he can go to to get better."

John shivered, leaning heavily on the SUV to support him. Wincing with every step, he started to move around the car. Jack began to speak once again.

"No Gwen. I refuse to send him to an asylum. He isn't crazy." John could feel the disgust in Jack's statement. "The last time he went to one of those, everyone behaved like Owen. I refuse to put him – or Anyone – through that. Ever. And that is final."

"Plus it'd screw up time." John shrugged, walking up to Jack. "They'd probably be freak'd ou' by my-" His voice collapsed into a coughing fit. Jack smiled tenderly at him, wrapping a supportive arm around him. Immediately, John felt infinitely safer. _They_ couldn't get to him.

"Hey." Jack smirked at him, forgetting the others for a minute. "I didn't think you would be up and moving around yet."

John grinned sheepishly. "Ah, you know me." He coughed again, instinctively cuddling closer to Jack. "I got curious. Thought you all were havin' a party or something without me."

Jack smiled at him once again. Then, he turned to the remainder of the group.

"We're going to have to avoid ourselves for a while. Just for tonight." He glanced over at Ianto. "Ianto, could you see if there's anywhere not connected to any of us that we can stay around here. I mean, besides the obvious."

To John's surprise, Ianto smiled. "Sure."

Ten minutes later, Ianto had found a small hotel about as far from the Plass as it could get. John handed Jack his coat, smiling for the first time in what felt like Years.

They were all climbing into the SUV when John first had trouble. Owen claimed driving, and Gwen sat next to him. It was clear those two got along very well. Tosh sat in one of the back seats, and Ianto sat next to her. John had the feeling that he very much Wasn't wanted by any of the people up front, so he started to climb into the back.

As he started to pull himself into the back of the SUV, the gash in his side tore open. John cried out, falling out once again. Immediately, Jack was standing next to him, helping him to his feet.

"You shouldn't try to move around too much." Jack chided, hefting John into the back of the SUV. John grinned.

"And you already know how well I take care of myself." If the marks on his arms were anything to be judged by…

Jack laughed softly, climbing into the car next to him, and slamming the trunk closed.

"It never hurts to try to teach you something new."

John grinned wryly, as Owen started the engine. Jack wrapped a protective arm around his shoulders, pulling him close as they both leaned back against the door.

"Jack, you should be up front with your team." John sighed, pushing Jack away weakly. "They deserve some explanations more than I do."

Jack shook his head. "No, they don't." the SUV shook, jostling them uncomfortably. "Plus, I don't think I would be very welcome at the moment."

John glanced forward, just in time to glimpse the slightest blush on Tosh's face. The ringing that had been blocking his thoughts earlier had subsided, but he still couldn't link to Jack. Maybe in a little bit he could, but right then, he was too tired to push it.

After about a minute of awkward silence, Jack spoke again.

"So, how're you feeling?"

John grinned. "There's three parts of me." He explained, counting them off on his fingers like a kid. "There's the part that's Beeeat…" He exaggerated the last word, because honestly, he really wanted to sleep. "There's the part that wants to get hammered, fucked and forget about life…" John felt Jack smile. "And you very well know the third part."

Jack nodded. "I sure do." Gently, he kissed the top of John's head, as John leaned against his shoulder. "And I'm not sure about that part, but I'm positive that I can do something about the first one." Jack sighed, murmuring into John's hair. "And I think we could come up with something for the second part."

John lifted his head, grinning. "Does that mean I get to keep you awake all night?"

Jack smirked. "Not a chance. And you aren't getting drunk either." John pouted. "Hey, you know very well what the Doctor would say if he found out I'd let a person who'd just gotten the crap kicked out of them have alcohol!"

John grinned, putting his head back on Jack's shoulder. Yes, he knew very well what the Doctor would say. From John's brief encounter, he managed to get a pretty clear picture.

"Yeah. I'd assume It'd be somewhere along the lines of 'Jack, you idiot, don't you know… blah blah blah and a lot of techno-babble'. And not the therapeutic kind."

Jack grinned. "Yeup. Unfortunately, you might not be so happy with how the 'forgetting life' works."

"Why not?"

"'Cause the Retcon probably would burn off."

John smirked, nodding. Ianto turned around, one eyebrow raised.

"How do you figure sir?" He asked. Jack smiled. John raised an eyebrow.

"He called you sir. It must be serious." He whispered. Jack rolled his eyes, then answered Ianto's question.

"Well, for one, I've broken Retcon 32 times. All of which I remember being dosed clearly." John could hear Gwen's indignant snort. _'She probably broke it once and assumed she was special. Typical.'_

"And secondly, John and I have higher metabolism rates than most other people we give it to." Jack concluded. "So it'd burn off faster. Hence cranky John in the morning."

"I'm always cranky in the morning." John muttered.

"Yes, I know." Jack sighed. If anyone were to know the mayhem of dealing with John in the morning first-hand, it would be him.

Tosh turned around also. _'Honestly.'_ John thought. _'These people have no self-preservation instincts. Don't they know that these things are moving oil bombs? Then again… I'm being hypocritical again.'_

"Why's that?" Tosh wondered. Jack grinned.

"Really?" Both Ianto and Tosh nodded. John smirked, listening to the inevitable response.

"Give humanity another Three THOUSAND years to evolve, and yeah, their metabolism's going to speed up. Along with other body processes." Jack glanced down at John, and rubbed his arm soothingly.

Gwen's indignant squawk came from the passenger's seat then. "Three thousand years?" John bit back a laugh. "You are both nuts! There's no way either of you-"

"Thirteen seventy fifty-twenty-two" "Ninety four fifty-twenty-four" Both of them recited. Gwen was silent. John grinned.

"You _so_ owe me five bucks."

"What were those dates?" Ianto asked. Jack grinned.

"Dates of graduation in our respective calendars."

Tosh blinked, then spoke. "So, what else is different? Because you both look like twenty-first century humans."

"Well, healing rate speeds up after WWIII" John stated. Jack pinched him slightly. "Ow! What was that for?"

"Timelines. You, not knowing them." John rolled his eyes. "And that would be why we can't take John here to a hospital. He'd freak out most of the staff."

"So it wasn't just to torture me." Owen muttered. Jack sighed.

"No, Owen, it wasn't. And I'm not Deaf." As if on an afterthought, Jack muttered, "Or dead yet."

"Don't say that." John pleaded, wrapping his arms around Jack. "I don't want to think about it."

Jack sighed. "Alright. None of the 'D' word for the rest of the night. Is that okay?"

John nodded, fixating on the floor in front of him.

The SUV stayed silent for a long time. Finally, John spoke.

"They said I was wrong." He whispered, so that only Jack could hear it. "Most of the blood… it isn't mine." John felt Jack relax, starting to rub soothing circles in his arm. "_They_ weren't my family. _They_ lied. I – I knew that she hadn't carried me, but… they never were my family. It was all a lie. They wanted Chad to… they wanted him to get famous. The two… they smiled. It was all just a plan for _their_ name to get into the records. They let him... They locked me in my room, and… Chad had me. They said I was _wrong_."

Jack froze, as John began to cry again. He couldn't keep his voice down anymore, so he mumbled the rest into Jack's shirt.

"John, you know that isn't true." Jack complained. John nodded, contradicting him.

Before they had a chance to debate what John had said, Owen stopped the SUV.

"We're here." He snapped, getting out. Gwen followed suit just as rapidly. With a glance backwards, Tosh slid out as well. Finally, after Jack's insistent glances, Ianto got out.

"I don't think you have to come in yet." Jack assured John, opening the back hatch. "Once we get rooms, I can come and get you."

John's eyes went wide.

"No." He pleaded. Jack froze, realizing his mistake. "Don't leave me out here alone. The Agency'll find me again." John confided in a hushed whisper.

Slowly, Jack nodded. "Alright."

At that moment, Tosh walked over.

"Jack if you want me to… I could…" she stumbled over her words, but neither of them rushed her. "I could stay here with John while you check in."

Jack bit his lip before responding. "I think that should be fine, unless…" he glanced sideways at John.

He grinned, sliding over to make room on the tailgate for Tosh. "So long as you aren't allergic to ultra-sexy men from the future, it'd be fine by me."

Tosh smiled shyly. "Well, then…" She climbed up next to John, winking at Jack. "I think we will get along fine."

Jack blinked, then grinned. "Well, it's good to see someone doesn't want to …" he paused, correcting his statement to avoid using the bad 'd' or 'k' words (also the 'm', 'h', and 'c' words). "… severely cause John bodily harm."

With that, he started to walk off, following the others.

"Jack." John called out. He turned around, smiling.

"Yeah?"

"Can I… Umm…" John tried to get around his embarrassment. "Can I bunk with you tonight?" He finally asked. "Just so I… Umm… not like …" He tried to clarify.

Jack smiled, nodding. "Of course you can John."

John let out a breath he had unknowingly been holding. "Thanks."

Jack grinned, nodding before he started after the others.

Tosh smiled softly, starting to talk to John.

"Well, that was an interesting way to put it." She commented. John grinned.

"Jack and I agreed to avoid the word, um…" John dragged up his ancient Spanish lessons. "– muerte – for the night…" and that was all John said on the topic. Tosh sensed his change of mood, and shifted her comments accordingly.

"I … um…" she stumbled, unable to form a valid sentence. Fortunately, John had something he needed to get off his chest.

"I'm sorry." He admitted. Tosh blinked.

"Why? You didn't do anything."

"Yes, I did." John sighed. "I'm sorry for putting you all through hell. Especially you. You were nice to me." John grinned at her, before turning back to face the wall. "And I repaid you by knocking you out and hurting Owen."

"Owen deserved it." Tosh snapped, reaching out to take John's hand. He blinked, meeting her eyes. Tosh smiled.

"If he's fully willing to break his Hippocratic Oath for a personal grudge and Gwen getting a good scare, he deserves a lot more than what you gave him." Tosh grinned wickedly. "I would've put him through the seventh layer of Hell by now."

John laughed. "You're quite the devious techie, aren't you?" Tosh nodded.

"Not usually around the others, but…" she tilted her head sideways, smiling serenely. "There's something about you that isn't like anyone else. Jack too."

John snorted. "Pheromones. They're hell on the 21st century mind."

Tosh smirked. "Not quite, but maybe…"

John felt a blush growing, so he quickly changed the topic.

"So, you lot have a Pterosaur?"

Tosh laughed. "You know, you're the first not to call her a Pterodactyl?"

John rolled his eyes. "Well, duh. It's too bloody big to be a Pterodactyl mate."

"Ianto would be happy not to have to correct someone on that for once." Tosh assured him. "Literally, it's practically the first thing he says to anyone. 'She's not a pterodactyl'." Tosh tried to impersonate Ianto's voice, but it came out very wrong.

John laughed. "So, what's her name?"

"Myfanwy." Tosh pronounced.

John crossed his eyes. "So my lessons in Welsh and Gaelic are going to be useful then?"

Tosh laughed. "Well, John, you are in Wales. It would be helpful."

John grinned, before his vision went white. Weakly, he fell against the wall of the SUV.

"John!" Tosh cried, trying to support him. To her surprise, he was relatively light. Too light, Tosh suspected, noticing the thin marks that showed as his Jacket sleeves pulled up. It was then that she was positive, John was hiding more than Jack had let on – Much more.

"I'm fine…" He muttered, pulling his hand away.

Tosh set her jaw, refusing to take that as an answer. "The hell you are." She retorted, pressing a hand to John's forehead. "You're running a fever. And I doubt that you told any of us the truth about how you really were feeling. Especially Jack."

John blinked, then pulled away. "Why do you say that?"

Tosh pointed to his arms. "I know the signs John." She muttered. "And I'm not stupid."

John blushed. "The fever's just blood loss." He couldn't explain away the scars, but he somehow knew that Tosh wouldn't tell anyone.

She nodded. "That would make sense. And with your faster metabolism, it would set in quicker… how long has it been since you've eaten a decent meal?"

John's blush deepened. "Ummm…" he bit his lip, meeting Tosh's eyes. They dared him to screw around. He looked away, speaking to the ground. "Before Natalie – the woman from the hologram." He explained.

Tosh blinked. "Which was exactly how long ago?"

John swallowed. "Seventeen days ago…" he muttered.

"John!" Tosh snapped. "You starved yourself for over two weeks, with a metabolism rate like yours? It's frankly amazing that you aren't dead yet. And with your trauma!"

John held up a hand. "Please, Tosh. I know, it's stupid. But it's the only thing I can do to make the guilt bearable." Well, that and **the counting**.

"John…" Tosh breathed, starting to see him in a new light. "Why? Is it that bad?"

John nodded, sniffing. "After you hit ten, then twenty, then thirty, on and on and on… it's the only thing you can do to convince yourself that you're still human." John swallowed, meeting her eyes once again. "Please, just … don't tell Jack."

Tosh nodded, sympathizing with him. Softly, she took his hand.

"I won't." she assured him. "Just promise me that you'll eat something."

"I don't know if I can." He mumbled. Tosh smiled.

"Of course you can." She leaned close to him, whispering in his ear, "Because I forgive you."

John smiled, nodding. "Thank you." He mumbled. Tosh smiled kindly, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

"It's high time someone said it."

At that moment, Jack chose to show up. He smirked, glancing between the two of them.

"I'm not sure who to suspect first. Tosh for getting a wild hair, or you for seducing my computer geek." He grinned. Tosh blushed, and John paled considerably. Jack just laughed.

"I'm kidding. Com'on, we're checked in." He grinned, offering Tosh a hand out of the SUV. She took it, and climbed out. Then, Jack helped John out, wrapping an arm around his waist when John tripped.

After five minutes of slowly limping, being carried and receiving weird glances, Jack unlocked the door to their room. It was small, with a table and couch crammed into a corner near the window. Next to the door, a small open area led to the bathroom.

But the one thing that really set John's heart to ease was the fact that there were two beds.

John smiled. Earlier, he might have been depressed at having missed a chance to share a bed with Jack, but right then, he wasn't up to the challenge. If they were left alone for long enough, John probably would have wound up caving and the two of them would have gotten thoroughly fucked.

So yeah, two beds were a good idea.

Jack sighed, noticing John leaning against the wall.

"I'd normally suggest reminiscing until dawn, but in light of recent events…"

John nodded. Jack took this to mean that he either was nauseous, or just too tired to respond.

"John, I'd like to check that all of your bandages are holding."

John moaned, pushing himself off the wall to sit down on one of the beds.

"Can't it wait until tomorrow?" he asked wearily. "'Cause I'm knackered."

Jack sighed. "Alright, I guess. Just…"

His statement was interrupted, because John had already taken his boots off, and was fast asleep on top of the covers. Jack smiled. Some things **Never** change.

DEATH_

A few minutes later, Tosh knocked on the door. Jack answered, smirking.

"Oh, hi Jack. I just wanted to see how John's doing." Tosh blushed, as if embarrassed by her own concern. Jack smiled, glancing behind him to the sleeping John.

"Sorry Tosh," Jack whispered, watching John's eyelids flicker in his sleep. "He literally just passed out."

"Without eating?" She worried. Jack nodded.

"He pleaded me to not even check his bandages until tomorrow." Jack grinned. "Hell, didn't even bother getting most of the blood off."

Tosh blinked. "I'll take it that's unusual."

Jack nodded. "Extremely. He used to be able to go twenty hours straight, and always showered off after…" He shook his head, dispelling the memories. "Anyway, yeah, you can come in and check on him." Jack stepped back, holding the door open for Tosh. She smiled, walking over to John's bedside.

"John," she sighed, gently shaking him. "Wake up. You promised me you'd eat something."

John's eyelids fluttered, and he turned his head to face her.

"I'll eat something for breakfast." He moaned. "Swear."

Jack smirked, as Tosh tried to pry one of John's eyes open.

"No. You are going to get up NOW and eat something." She ordered, sounding more like a high-school nurse than a mother hen.

John groaned. "Tosh… Please." He whined, opening one eye (not the one that Tosh was holding open). "I jus' wanna' sleep…"

Jack smiled, as Tosh opened her mouth to make some retort. She closed her mouth when Jack placed a hand on her arm, pulling her back slightly. Tosh glanced at him, then sighed, turning back to John.

"Alright." She sighed. Tosh pushed John's hair back from his forehead and, after a moment's hesitation, planted a small kiss of his temple.

"Just so long as you promise." John smiled slightly, as Tosh continued. "Goodnight John."

"'Night." He muttered back, before falling silent.

After saying goodnight to Jack, Tosh left.

Jack sighed, sitting down on the edge of John's bed. Gently, he pushed John's messy hair back from his face. John smiled slightly in his sleep, and Jack once again was amazed at how innocent he seemed while sleeping. It was as if, after he had washed all the blood and muck from the day off, his mind purged the images as well.

It still never ceased to be astounding to Jack how rapidly his friend's demeanor could change because of something as simple as sleep. When John was awake, he was a tough, hard-hearted agent. He never cried until he was positive that they were alone in their apartment. But when asleep… he seemed to be his age once his eyes closed. Like all of the stress and aging washed off of him and he was a kid again.

After all, Jack thought, he's younger than almost anyone in Torchwood, except…

At that moment, another knock came from the door. Jack sighed, still smiling at the thought. When he opened the door, his smile widened.

"Hey Ianto." Jack grinned. (Speak of the archivist and he WILL show up…)

"Hello… Sir." Ianto replied, hesitant. Jack rolled his eyes.

"How many times have I told you to stop calling me that?"

Ianto started to examine his shoes. (They were very nice shoes. Very…shoey.)

"Twenty times Si- Jack…" He muttered, correcting himself half-way through. Ianto blushed, as Jack's smile widened.

"I assume you want to come in?" He smirked. Ianto nodded.

"I just – after everything…" Ianto searched for the right words, before finally setting on, "I figured you'd want company."

Jack shrugged, stepping backwards so Ianto could come in. Ianto smiled slightly, following Jack into the room. The first thing he noticed was John, asleep and fully dressed, lying on top of the covers.

Ianto blinked, surprised by the first thought that came to mind.

'_He looks like a kid who's fallen asleep after finishing some project…' _

Jack smiled, as if he had just had the same thought.

"I guess it would be pointless of me to say make yourself at home…" He muttered, glancing backwards at Ianto. The younger man smiled slightly, sitting down on the couch.

Jack watched him for a moment, before sitting gently on the edge of John's bed. Ianto watched, his curiosity growing, as Jack gently traced John's features as he slept. A small feeling rose in his chest, but Ianto couldn't quite place it, but when he did, he felt his eyes widen slightly.

He was jealous.

Ianto swallowed, forgetting the feeling for the moment. He resumed watching Jack, until the other man's expression got to him.

"So," Ianto wondered aloud. "How is he?"

Jack sighed, tenderly brushing his fingers over john's peaceful features. Finally, after delaying his response as much as he could, Jack sighed.

"Not as good as he lets on." He admitted, unable to look away from John's face. Then, Jack started to speak again.

"It just seems so… weird." Jack confided. "He doesn't even look his age anymore, let alone act it."

Ianto blinked, puzzled. "How old is John?"

Jack smiled. "How old do you think?"

Ianto shrugged in response. "I couldn't guess, but at least thirty, thirty-five. Maybe even forty." Jack laughed, startling Ianto. "What?"

Jack grinned. "That's what everyone thinks." He snorted. "His life's aged him faster than any time stream could ever." Jack finally looked at Ianto. "John is **Twenty Nine** years old."

Ianto blinked, stunned. John was only four years older than him? They looked drastically different; John's hair had already begun to fade and his skin was marked and scarred. It was as if he had an extra decade added on to his life by just the stress of living.

Jack snorted. "It isn't just living Ianto." Ianto glanced at him warily. It wasn't the first time Jack had seemingly read his mind, but after what Owen had said about his and John's link… Ianto couldn't be sure which thoughts were private anymore.

Jack glanced over at him. "What?" He demanded, taken aback by Ianto's expression. Then, reality seemed to hit him full in the back of the head. "Oh, you're worried about the… ESP thingy between me and John, aren't you." Ianto blushed, nodding sheepishly. "Don't worry. Whatever Owen told you, it isn't me. I can just read emotions. John's the actual telepath." Jack grinned wryly.

"How?" Ianto wondered. Jack bit his lip. Then, he stood, and walked to the other side of the bed.

"Alright, you really want to know?" Ianto nodded slightly. "The fifty first century, and humanity has come into contact with hundreds of different species. Many are telepathic. And almost no one is 100% pure human anymore. I'm pretty positive I'm not, and John sure as hell isn't." Ianto raised an eyebrow, and unspoken question. "His family has lived on a planet in the Andromeda galaxy for as long as he could trace it back. As with most colonies, humans ended up… partnering with the locals. So, some of the abilities get passed down." Jack straightened John's boots, placing them by the corner of the bed before he started to take off his jacket. "It wasn't actually intentional." He muttered. "They put the two strongest telepaths in the same class, and it just sort-of happened."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "So it was longer than the five years?"

Jack froze, as if stillness could help him avoid Ianto's question. Finally, he blushed, gazing down at the sleeping John.

"Yeah." He muttered, resuming his task of taking John's Jacket off. (He wasn't worried about waking him. Jack had done this at least four times before, and when John was out, he was out like a fried light bulb. There was no way he was waking up anytime soon.)

Ianto continued to watch, waiting for Jack to continue. Instead, Jack stayed silent, until he started to pull John's sleeves off.

"I suggest that you don't watch." He recommended. Ianto shrugged.

"Why not?"

Jack sighed. "You don't want to know some things."

"Like how it was more than a fling you walked out on?" Ianto questioned. Jack stared at the floor, slowly continuing to pull John's jacket off. "How long?"

"Just over ten years." Jack admitted quietly, slipping John's arms out of the Jacket sleeves. "We met in high school, and it just took off from there. And yes, I did just walk out on it."

Jack hung the jacket up on the bedpost, before setting about pulling John's shirt off. He winced slightly as it revealed just how abused John was. Ianto watched Jack's care for John in mild jealousy.

"And what about the three months you were gone?" He asked.

Jack froze, his hands shaking in terror.

'_Please, no. No, don't … don't let him ask that. Please. Please. I can't… he shouldn't know. He can't know…' _

"Jack, I know." Ianto sighed. "I know that it was more than three months. I know that something bad happened to you."

Jack shuddered. "What makes you think that?" He wondered, knowing he was just avoiding his guilt.

"You look different." Ianto smiled slightly. "And I've seen the looks you and John give to each other. You both know something that you don't want us to know about."

A bolt of terror ran down Jack's spine. He fumbled with the hem of John's shirt for a few seconds, before entirely giving up his toils and sitting on the edge of the bed. Finally, he muttered a faint response to Ianto's question.

"I found the Doctor." Ianto nodded. They had already been told that. But that offered no explanation for WHY Jack had gone with him.

Jack seemed to notice Ianto's mistrust of his motives. Then again, of course he did. Jack was an empath.

"Ianto, I can't possibly expect you, or anyone to ever understand my motives." He sighed. "But I do hope that you can one day forgive me."

"I can try." Ianto admitted. "But I want to know where you went first."

Jack swallowed, biting his lip. "I found the Doctor. And I had been waiting for him for so long… I just didn't think. But when I finally met him, he had changed." Jack glanced down at John, tears in his eyes. "I asked him if he could fix me, and he said no." But that wasn't the only thing he had said.

After a long while, he looked up, wiping his eyes. "The rest of it you don't have to know about it. Just remember that I came back for You, and only you."

"Really?" Ianto wondered, unsure. "You were very quick to include the entire team earlier. So why should I think that I'm the special one?"

Jack smiled. "It's true that I did miss all of you, but you were the one in particular I came back for." Jack sighed, moving to kneel in front of Ianto. "It's like… all of you are parts of a bridge that kept me afloat while I was gone. Everyone was a piece, but you Ianto… you were the Keystone."

Ianto smiled softly. "Then why don't you tell me about it?"

Jack swallowed. "It would give you nightmares worse than anything you ever experienced."

Ianto raised any eyebrow, unsure if Jack was exaggerating or not. His nightmares had gotten pretty bad, but then he remembered that Jack couldn't die. So he had a much wider range of pain than anyone else… torture would be pushed much farther for him because he could always come back, no matter what happened.

Weakly, Ianto nodded, agreeing to not ask any more questions. He watched Jack return to the unconscious John, small bolts of Envy going down his spine at the care Jack administered to the other man.

Jack gently pulled John's shirt off, laying it down on the other bed. Ianto's eyes were fixed to Jack, or else he might have been nauseated by the extent of John's injuries. Then, Jack moved to John's belts, unstrapping them slowly. Ianto's heart quivered, as Jack's hand brushed slightly against the unconscious man's hip. Jack's smile waivered slightly, allowing Ianto to make out a mild tremor, as if he longed to say or do something, but no longer had the courage. Finally, after excruciating seconds passed, Jack sighed, laying the belts next to John's bloody, ripped shirt.

Jack placed his hands on the mattress next to John, watching him for a long time. Silently, he tried to convince himself that John would be fine, but in reality, he knew that was just a faint hope. John wouldn't be fine for a very long time to come.

Jack sighed, beginning to wrap John's arms in Ace-bandages. He had pulled them out of the med-bag that Owen had packed, knowing that John wouldn't let him even BEGIN to treat his arms. Especially not where the others might have seen. But he wouldn't mind Ianto, would he? After all, John had practically given approval of their relationship before he died, didn't he?

'_Ianto…__ Jack loves you … Take care of him.'_

Ianto watched, mildly horrified, as Jack gently wrapped the bandages around his friend's arms. How had all of those marks gotten there? Along the inside of each of John's arms ran a line of thin, consistent scars. Each was approximately three inches long, and about an inch apart.

"What happened to him?" Ianto asked, finally ghosting his eyes over John's features. Jack shrugged.

"I'm not too sure yet… I'll tell you when I figure it out for myself." At that, Jack left the room. When he returned a few seconds later, Ianto blinked. Jack had taken off his blue RAF shirt, and had his suspenders hanging from his hips. He caught Ianto's eye, raising an eyebrow. Jack glanced down at himself, then back at Ianto.

"Too much blood…" He muttered, walking back over to John's bedside. Gently, he lifted the smaller man into his arms, surprised at how light John was. He had lost at least ten, maybe twenty pounds since Jack had last met him. It couldn't just be from blood loss, could it? Jack recalled Tosh, and her insistence that John wake up and eat something… was there more to what had happened to John than he thought?

Jack sighed, placing John under the covers, and pulling the blankets up around him. John never seemed to be able to live on his own, namely because he couldn't stand himself. Self-loathing was the worst punishment anyone could endure, because it left you so alone.

Jack left the room once more, but returned seconds later. He now returned with a damp cloth in one hand. Tenderly, he began to wipe the blood off of John's skin. Ianto could feel the envy growling deep inside of him, dissatisfied by Jack's behavior. HE knew that John was injured, and therefore deserved sympathy, if not aid… but that didn't make the smile on Jack's face any less genuine.

Just over ten years… to stay with someone, be committed to someone for over a decade without any formal marriage or even societal pressures… and during the most tumultuous part of anyone's life, early adulthood. Jack and John must have been very committed, exceedingly close… just for their relationship to survive that long. Provided, they did have that mental bond…

But what chance did that leave Ianto for his relationship with Jack?

Before he could continue to follow that train of thought, his mind was overrun by an outside source. Ianto leaned forward, gripping his head.

"Ianto?" Jack wondered, pausing in his care of the unconscious John. When the only response he got was Ianto grinding his teeth, he became worried. Very worried.

"Ianto?" Jack repeated, kneeling in front of the young man, his concern evident. "What's wrong?" Jack placed a hand on Ianto's knee, and he finally began to speak.

"It's – there's this song playing through my head… But I've never heard it before." Ianto met Jack's eyes, and was surprised to see pure, clinical acceptance.

Jack nodded calmly, reaching over to the table next to him. He handed Ianto a notepad and pen, gesturing to them.

"Write it down." He instructed. Then, as if realizing he had forgotten something, "Please."

Ianto raised an eyebrow, prompting Jack to elaborate. "It might be important."

Ianto blinked, curious as to how his potential insanity/music-obsession/forgetting-song-titles/mind-being-bored-and-composing-random-song-lyrics could possibly be important at that moment, but did as instructed.

About a minute later, when he handed the sheet over, Jack glanced at it for a second. Clearly, that was all the time he needed to figure out the significance, because he then did something odd. Jack smiled softly, sitting back on the edge of John's bed. He took one limp, bandaged into his own, running his fingers over the wrappings, which were already beginning to show red. When Jack finally spoke, it was so soft and incidental that Ianto could barely hear it, almost missing the faint sentence.

"Genesis…" Jack muttered, gazing intently at John's face. That should have had no significance normally, considering John's adoration of the late 20th century. But that one song… he had abhorred it for as long as Jack could remember. So why would he be dreaming it?

"… No Son of Mine." Jack shook himself out of his trance-like state, glancing sideways at Ianto. The young Welshman looked entirely out of his depth. Jack sighted.

"That's the song. 'No Son of Mine' by Genesis." He bit his lip, debating internally whether to continue or not. "It's John." He explained, softening the confusion on Ianto's face.

Even in his sleep, John was a strong telepath. With how weak he was, it wasn't all that surprising to Jack that his barriers had collapsed the moment he did. The temptation to peer into John mind, find out exactly what was troubling him was immense. But Jack would – could – never betray his trust like that again. He would just wait until John told him the whole truth – no matter how much it hurt him to not be able to help. Wasn't that all anyone could ask for from another person? To eventually hear the truth, as much of it as they were willing to divulge… that was all he could hope of receiving from John.

"You asked me earlier what happened to him?" Jack asked, meeting Ianto's gaze full-on.

Ianto nodded, hesitant to answer. "I didn't mean to pry, but…" something about Jack's demeanor told him that he would not like the answer to his question. "Yeah."

"I couldn't really say earlier, because I just wasn't sure. John said a lot of things, and I wasn't positive what he meant by them. I had an idea… but until now, it was just a thought." Jack sighed. "But now… that song seals it. Now, I'm nearly positive. I think I figured out what happened to him."

Ianto waited for Jack to continue.

"I think…" Jack hesitated, biting his lip. "John was raped… by his brother."

Death_

Océane: Done! Anyone want to guess the WHOLE story? Brownie points for the closest & most creative!

John: (curled in the fetal position in my corner) Meanie! Why? WHY?

Océane: Oh, oops… sorry John. But I had to.

John: Why? Why my BROTHER?

Océane: The plotline demanded it. But remember… "Most of the blood isn't mine"?

John: *Grins* Oh, Yeah. Please, tell me that it got bloody.

Océane: Spoilers! Anywhoos… Review!~


	10. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Océane: whoops! I figured out that I screwed up in the last chapter… I meant to say TWENTY for the "John moping in the alley" scene… not Twelve. That will become very important.

John: *rolls eyes* Thanks a lot. The braces are back. In the case you forgot: [] is me, and {} is Jack. Océane doesn't own anything except the plot. Don't like it, Don't read.

Océane: there are _references_ and loud, vulgar cursing in this chapter, so there's your warning. I also don't own Genesis music in any way shape or form – Don't sue me!

* * *

><p>No Son of Mine<p>

Ianto sat, dumbstruck. "Raped?" He managed to whisper, as if the words burned his tongue. "By – by his brother?"

Jack nodded sadly.

"Why?"

That was the one question at the heart of every mystery and crime. Why? What motive was there for this? And why to this specific person? Unfortunately, and this was the part that tore through Jack's heart more than anything, there was nothing that John could have done differently in good conscience that would have prevented this.

"Because…" Jack sighed, tears glistening in his eyes. "Because he loved…" He hesitated, reluctant to finish. As Jack's words hung in the air, drifting slowly away, Ianto shivered.

"…Me."  
><em>Well, the key to my survival<br>Was never in much doubt  
>The question was how I could keep sane<br>Trying to find the way out_

"John's life wasn't – Isn't – exactly easy." Jack explained, trying to get Ianto to wrap his head around the concepts. The young man grew up in a completely different world than John and he had. A safer world. "John was adopted by a family when he was very young. When he was born, in fact. They had a son already, named Chad. He was three at the time… so he knew that John wasn't his biological brother. But they never told John. His family was kind, nice… when he was young. But as he grew up, his Ma started to get more picky. And she got less strict on Chad… and what he did. Especially around John." Jack shuddered, trying to shake the memories.

_Things were never easy for me  
>Peace of mind was hard to find<br>And I needed a place where I could hide  
>Somewhere I could call mine<em>

"He always had a hard time in school. Everyone avoided being around him, because of… How he was adopted. 'Cursed.' That was the word that followed him around every day. John's family used to tell him to ignore everyone, that they still loved him. But that all really changed one he turned into a teen. All of the other students got harsher by the time he was in High school. Getting isolated and beat on was an average part of his day. What was worse, was the sudden loss of his parent's approval. They just lost interest in him. So, John had to fend for himself. And when someone pushed him around, John shoved back. Harder. At one point… it got messy. Some kid supposedly pulled a knife on him, and… the guy cut his own arm open. If there's one thing that John can't handle, it's blood. It's sort-of like his trigger… It didn't turn out well for the kid."

_I didn't think much about it  
>Till it started happening all the time<br>Soon I was living with the fear everyday  
>Of what might happen at night<em>

"His adoptive parent's didn't exactly WANT a second child. And Chad… He wasn't meant to be just an older brother. I remember one time, It was Chad's twentieth birthday. John came running out of his house, and just barreled into me. When I asked him about it… it took him five years to get around to telling me the full story. And when he did… I was just glad that he knew he was adopted when he told me. Because I couldn't imagine what it would have been like for him…"

_I couldn't stand to hear the  
>Crying of my mother<br>And I remember when  
>I swore that, that would be the<br>Last they'd see of me  
>And I never went home again<em>

"Chad apparently wanted… John said he had put it as 'A special sort of birthday present'. So he got around to telling me the whole story. I wouldn't make you listen to it, but it tore him to shreds. John wouldn't say anything beyond telling me to shut up and… uh… it was an interesting night." Jack blushed slightly. "As soon as John was seventeen, he enrolled in the time Agency. We met in the Academy… they had put us both in the same class. When he was a kid, John learned that he was a really strong telepath. I didn't know that I was an empath until I was fourteen. But John… when I first met him, I just figured that The Agency was so desperate to recruit him because of how high he scored on the telapthy tests. But it was only after we had been partnered for a year that we both learned he was supposed to join up all along. His mother was a stingy old crone. The moment he turned seventeen, his ma started to crack down on him. He couldn't do anything right. She insisted he join the Agency, even though he had never wanted to join up."

_They say time is a healer  
>And now my wounds are not the same<br>I rang the bell with my heart in my mouth  
>I had to hear what he'd say<em>

"About… well, just after we got out of the loop, John learned about his being adopted. At that point, HE had started to forgive his family. I didn't think I could ever manage to forgive the bastards. We stayed up for nights on end, researching and digging into hidden files. After weeks of working, we found one article. It wasn't even a paragraph long. And that was all that was left of his real family. Just a few sentences that were forgotten. The Agency had erased all other traces of his mother's existence. And John flipped. So he went straight to the top. I didn't know at the time, but they had John listed for one of the most elite groups of our time period. John demanded that they tell him what had really happened. What he learned, nearly killed him. He wound up so disgusted with his parents and with the Agency that he even tried to leave. John tried to get me to come with him, but I was just too scared. Everyone knew what happened to deserters, and… it wasn't pleasant. But he didn't care. The agency had basically handed him over as an infant to what, in essence, was a celebrity family. That was all he had been to them. The agency… they had raised him to be their model agent. The 'perfect child'. Without even giving him any choice in what his future was going to be."

_He sat me down to talk to me  
>He looked me straight in the eyes<br>He said:  
>You're no son, you're no son of mine<br>You're no son, you're no son of mine  
>You walked out, you left us behind<br>And you're no son, you're no son of mine_

"So, I eventually managed to get him to calm down. But John was insistent. He called for a change of name. But his parents fought it. And, well, as lawsuits go… this one got pretty nasty. Like, I had to sit on him one morning to keep him from going after the lot of them with a knife. Now I regret doing that. I probably should have just let John cut their fucking throats… maybe then this wouldn't have happened… Anyway, the motions wound up in court. Or, as close to court as there was at the time. His… well, now former- ma and Da fought way too hard for just a change of name. That's when I really started to get suspicious of ulterior motives. That was also the first time I met his parents. And I could tell that they didn't like ME in particular. When it was finally over, John had won hands down. I figure that the Agency just didn't want to piss him off and risk him doing something – like killing himself. But it was more than John changing his name – I mean, he did. Took his mom's name, but it wasn't just that. John demanded that the Agency sever all his ties to his family on the record. It was approved. And just like that, John Hart was a single individual without a single family tie in the universe to speak of."

_Oh his words how they hurt  
>I'll never forget it<br>And as the time, it went by  
>I lived to regret it<br>You're no son, you're no son of mine  
>But where should I go<br>and what should I do  
>You're no son, you're no son of mine<br>But I came here for help  
>I came here for you<em>

"After everything was over and done, John was really like the kid I had met. He just turned around, and grinned like I had never seen him before. And well… John being John, He kinda'… tongued me right there and then. I swear, at that second, I nearly puked from all the emotions cramming into my head. And yes, it had happened before. Ninth grade, sex-ed, don't ask. But this time, it was different. I could feel a lot coming from his ex-parents. Anger, resentment, envy, disbelief, betrayal… everything you would expect from a family that had just had one of their own opt out. But there was also this feeling of satisfaction. Like the pieces of a chess game had just fallen into place. But what was really wrong… was what I felt coming from that sicko- son of theirs. Chad had this weird sense of… lust. Somehow, I could tell that he was pissed at John for leaving HIM, and not just their family. He had this… sense of ownership. Like John was HIS and no one else's. I remember the only other time I've felt that mixed emotions was from Gwen. Right before – before I went off to die, then when I, umm… kissed you… She had the same emotions going through her head. Disgust, annoyance, loss, anger, the feelings that you would only typically see in a marriage that went south. But under that, there was a feeling that… Chad got off on it. The fucking bastard was turned on by watching his supposed 'baby brother' have a committed relationship. And it wasn't just his body's immediate reaction. I could feel what was going on in his head. He was thinking…" Jack shuddered. "All of his disgusting, nauseating fantasies. Chad kept thinking about what John was doing. Thinking about what it would feel like if John did that to him… HE was planning what it would be like to do things to John. I – I didn't know that a human body could go through all those things without just dying… and I still don't want to. John was lucky to get out of that family while he could."

_Well the years they passed so slowly  
>I thought about him everyday<br>What would I do, if we passed on the street  
>Would I keep running away<em>

"After everything was over, John and I were just walking out when his fake-da came over to us. Before we knew it, all three of them had us boxed into a corner. Just so that they would let us leave, we agreed to meet with them that afternoon. So later, we met them someplace we all knew in town. When we got there, John left within ten minutes of his almost-family shown up. Chad followed him out. I guess he wasn't done with John just yet, 'cause within twenty minutes, John came almost running back in. And that's when his ex-parents spoke up. His once-dad… if I actually was intimidated, I might have called it a threat. He said, 'one of these days, this will catch up to you. And you'll come begging back to us.' After that, I figured he was just talking to John, because he added that… uh… 'You'll come running back to Chad after Jack breaks your heart'…" Jack flushed an unhealthy shade of red. "John just dragged me out of the building, and swore he wouldn't go back to them. No matter what. And that was when I told him that I wouldn't leave him. That was a lie."

_In and out of hiding places  
>Soon I'd have to face the facts<br>We'd have to sit down and talk it over  
>And that would mean going back<em>

"We spent the rest of our lives avoiding them. John just couldn't handle being near them. Not that he was afraid of them, it was more that he couldn't deal with the added stress. With all the things going on in his life, he just had no energy left to fight anyone off. Especially not the people who had raised him. If I could have been there all the time, I would have. But sometimes our jobs required that we take turns going out. So there were a bunch of times that John was left on his own, just sitting around, waiting for something bad to happen." Jack sighed. "Because that was what he was used to. John had been raised, and had taught himself over the years, that being alone meant being vulnerable. I swear, he was never happier to see me than when I came back from a week of reconnaissance. After a while, we were both starting to get suspicious. When his family had fought so hard to keep him with them, why would they just let him slip away into hiding? And John had gotten even more paranoid. He would hardly go outside our apartment without me. After years of living like that, John and I finally got the entire explanation. He had already been set apart from the other agents… but we only learned just how big of a mess he was tangled up in after the trial. And now… he's terrified of being all alone. Because the Agency will come for him. I guarantee it. And with them would probably be his family."

_They say time is a healer  
>And now my wounds are not the same<br>I rang the bell with my heart in my mouth  
>I had to hear what he'd say<br>He sat me down to talk to me  
>He looked me straight in the eyes<em>

"I guess he went back. HE told me, that he couldn't go back. And neither could I. But that doesn't explain…" then, it seemed to hit Jack. "damn it." Ianto blinked, raising an eyebrow.

"It could have been instinct." Ianto suggested. "He could have been so disoriented and upset that he just followed his instincts and gone back to his family." He had spent a good deal of his free time in high school studying human behavior. And one of the things that had fascinated him was the deeply ingrained connection formed during childhood.

"After all, they were the people that raised him. If John was out of it…"Ianto trailed off, as Jack shook his head.

"No. That's not it." He contradicted. "John doesn't have a paternal bond. Hell, he probably doesn't even have any feelings for them at all." Jack sighed. "No. What John was doing was finishing the job." Ianto froze, surprised.

"Fi-finishing the job?" Jack nodded in response.

"Yeah. We got in the way. He was TRYING to kill himself. So, after I got in the way of his plan, John had to find a plan B. Knowing him – and trust me, I KNOW John – he had that plan laid out, and seven others before he even started the first. John went there to die." Jack paused, biting his lip. It seemed as if it were painful for him to go on. "That's what he came here to do. John came _Here_, at this time, to die."

"Why?" Ianto managed to breathe, stunned. Jack shrugged.

"It's his way of clearing his conscience. The same…"Finally, Jack's demeanor started to crack, and his voice choked up. "The same as his scars." He whispered, blinking back tears. "That's his way of measuring, like a tape measure for it. I suggested that he keep a record, but I never thought… I never expected him to do THAT. And then, it just became a habit for him I guess."

Ianto listened silently, although he could make almost no sense of what Jack was talking about.

"Still, you wanted to know what happened to him?" Jack seemed to snap out of his trance, meeting Ianto's eyes once again. Shy about his curiosity, Ianto nodded.

_He said:  
>You're no son, you're no son of mine<br>You're no son, you're no son of mine  
>You walked out, you left us behind<br>And you're no son, you're no son of mine_

"From what I could put together, John wound up going home. Or, um… at least, back where it used to be home. He didn't say too much, but what he did… wasn't pleasant. I guess that when he showed up, his ex-family wasn't happy with him. You see, he was given a mission before he quit the Agency. Nearly all of John's missions required taking somebody out. And this one was no different. Only this job was worse. They gave him MY card." Ianto appeared confused, so Jack explained, "The job he got was to take me out. As in permanently. See, the Agency wasn't too pleased with me when I left, so… I suppose it was only a matter of time until they got around to sending somebody after me. I just never thought that they would have the guts to send John." Jack's lip quivered slightly, but he continued. "So, after he didn't pull it off, the Agency must have been pretty pissed. And I can only imagine how mad his 'family' was. When he got there, it must have been like returning to hell. His dad had already told both of us that John wasn't considered a part of their family anymore. And maybe that was what they wanted. Because then they could finish what they had planned. But anyway… Chad must have found him first. Whatever happened after that, John was either too weak or too disoriented to do anything. Somehow, Chad and his parents must have gotten John into his old room."

_Oh his words how they hurt me  
>I'll never forget it<br>And as the time, it went by  
>I lived to regret it<br>You're no son, you're no son of mine  
>But where should I go<br>And what should I do  
>You're no son, you're no son of mine<br>But I came here for help  
>Oh I was looking for you<em>

"And his former parents stood by and watched as Chad… when Chad – did that." Jack shuddered. He took a deep breath, calming his nerves before he continued.

"I can't help but blame myself. _I _was the one that sent him there unarmed, without any way to protect himself. If I had only let him keep his weapons, maybe this wouldn't have happened. John can pretty much take care of himself, but he's still small. And I've met Chad. There's no way John could have fought him off on his own." Tears were once more flowing through Jack's eyes. "And there is something worse. They told John that he was _wrong_."

From the way he said it, Ianto could tell that that was one of the things that John had been called as a child.

"John blames himself for his Mother's death." Jack admitted.

"Why do you think my jacket's Red?"

Jack blinked, then glanced over his shoulder. John grinned sheepishly, prompting Jack to raise an eyebrow.

"And how long have **you** been awake?"

John crossed his arms behind his head, smirking. "Long enough to not want to kill you." He kicked Jack softly through the sheets. "But I trust Eye Candy not to blab." Ianto turned pink as John winked at him.

Suddenly, John started to sit up.

"So, how long was I passed out?" He asked. Jack helped him sit up, glancing at the clock on the nightstand.

"Just over two hours."

John winced, shifting the pillow so it lay against his back. Annoyingly, his link was still down. Even with how injured he was, he should have been able to re-connect with Jack at least an hour ago. Throwing timelines into a black hole, John decided to ask Jack about it (regardless of the fact Ianto was there.)

"Hey, Jack? Your head hurt?" He asked.

Jack shook his head. "No, why?"

"Well, umm…" John swallowed, mildly embarrassed. "It's just, it's been a while, and I… I still can't…" John sighed, finally getting around to the point. "I still can't open up our link."

Jack froze, glancing sideways at Ianto. Then, he smacked John's leg.

"Well, you could've asked dim-wit." Jack laughed. "I blocked it so that you wouldn't get disturbed by me moving around."

John frowned. "Gee, thanks for telling me that Jack." And here he was, thinking that something had gone drastically wrong with his head. John reminded himself to slap Jack upside the head when he felt better.

"So…" John prodded, not feeling any change in their link.

"What?" Jack asked, feigning confusion.

"The Link."

Jack grinned. "Oh, you want me to do something about that?" John rolled his eyes. Duh. "I don't recall you asking me to-"

"Jack, stop being stupid."

"You have to ask nicely."

"Alright then. Jack, open the damn link back up, or I swear I'll kill you right here."

"I doubt it." Jack smirked. Before he even had a chance to make another suicidal comment, John had one arm wrapped securely around his throat, pulling the taller man down.

"Now Jack." John ordered, his mouth a mock frown. Finally, Jack pulled down the blocks he had set up in their link. Feeling the disruption dissipate, John let go of Jack's neck. Rubbing his collarbone to get rid of the redness, Jack stuck out his tongue.

John shook his head. Some things will never change, no matter how many centuries pass.

Jack stood up, starting out of the room. "I think that I probably should get you a clean shirt, shouldn't I?"

Ianto froze, terrified at the thought of being left alone with John. Unfortunately, both men immediately noticed this.

John grinned, a smile that he might have described as feral under different circumstances. But after having learned more about him, Ianto just marked it down to his uneasiness. Jacks reaction, however, was significantly different. The older man raised an eyebrow, glancing between Ianto and John. Finally, Jack made a comment – though not one that Ianto would have expected.

"John, behave yourself." Jack ordered, placing both hands on his hips. "Or I might decide to start acting like Torchwood again."

John just grinned, gesturing his assurances. Seemingly satisfied, Jack left. However, the situation didn't improve from Ianto's point of view. He was still worried about what would happen being left alone in a room with John.

A few seconds after the door clicked shut, John turned his attention to the young Welshman. Despite promising himself (and, more importantly, Jack) that he wouldn't pry into any of the team's minds, the thought leaking from Ianto's head were just too loud for John to ignore. He could tell the young man was scared… of HIM.

'_Honestly, does no one trust me at all?'_

John's lips formed a thin line. Ianto was also very confused, he could tell. Clearly, he didn't have the same opinion of Torchwood – or the background knowledge – that Jack and John shared. Confusion and fear weren't a pleasant combination, in bed or not. Fortunately, John had no theological reference to make based off of that assessment, and his insight came from many previous situations. And that was where John ended THAT particular train of thought for the moment.

"So," John smirked, snapping Ianto out of his embarrassed trance. "Has he done _that_ yet?"

Ianto turned a pale pink. "What?"

John just snickered. Ianto's blush deepened, along with his confusion.

"Look, don't play stupid." John beamed. "I know Jack, and I know his habits. So, has he done _**That**_ yet?"

Ianto raised an eyebrow, no longer quite as embarrassed.

"Which _that_ would you be talking about?"

John rolled his eyes. "Trust me, if he'd tried it, it isn't something you're likely to forget."

Finally Ianto grinned. "Oh. THAT that."

"He does have quite a few." John laughed, smirking. Ianto's eyebrow went up again.

"Do tell." John didn't have to be prompted twice.

"Look, Yan. If there's one thing I'm positive hasn't changed, it's how turned on Jack is by certain things." Ianto sat in a thinning patience, waiting for John to continue.

"One word - Handcuffs."

Jack returned a while later, only to find both John and Ianto in fits of laughter.

"Do I Want to know?"

The only response he received was the two of them laughing harder.

Unfortunately for Ianto, the conversation just got weirder once they stopped laughing.

Jack sat down in a chair across the glass-topped table, as John pulled the clean t-shirt over his head. Despite having had only a few hours to recuperate, John already felt significantly better. However, when he glanced down at his chest, he started laughing all over again. Leave it to Jack to get him a Shirt clearly displaying his least favorite Genesis album on the front

Again, the trio fell into silence.

"Have either of you seen Labyrinth?" His question came as a surprise to both Jack and Ianto.

"What?" their responses came in unison.

"You've never seen the Jim Henson movie, Labyrinth?" John demanded, mildly surprised that neither of them had even heard of the film. And he hadn't even lived through that time period – whereas both of them had.

Jack grinned. "Oh, geeze John." He joked, faking a heart attack. "I was worried there for a minute. I thought you had completely lost it and meant some R rated sci-fi film."

Ianto rolled his eyes in agreement. "Well, duh. Who hasn't?"

"You want to put money on that assumption Eye candy?" John dared, already planning a prank.

"John." Jack's tone was a warning. "What did I tell you?"

John pouted. "You didn't say I couldn't look." He whined.

"Well, let's add visual to the No touching rule."

"Prude." John complained, spinning a pen he had found somewhere between his fingers. "Anyway… back to the topic."

Ianto glanced between the two of them, feeling very much like a third wheel in this discussion. That is, until John winked at him.

"What if I said I'd bet ten bucks that I know somebody that hasn't seen Labyrinth?" John dared. Ianto raised an eyebrow.

"Who?" then, a second later, he grinned, clearly having answered his own question.

"John, I'll do you one better." He smirked. "I'll bet that she's never seen a Jim Henson film."

Jack burst out laughing at that, either having just figured out who they were talking about, or thought about their topic.

"Well then, I'll do both of you _two_ better. I'll bet that not only has she never seen Labyrinth or any other Jim Henson film... but that she's never heard of _David Bowie_ either."

Both men let out a mock gasp of horror, before collapsing into laughter.

* * *

><p>Later, Ianto looked at the time. Surprisingly, three hours had passed. Just of Jack and John talking. In the past hours, Ianto was certain he had learned more about both men than he probably would have ever cared to know. For example, he now knew that Jack hadn't exactly WANTED to move out at seventeen, but that he had also apparently got by on… illegitimate methods.(Ianto didn't want to ask, and Jack certainly wasn't going to explain John's claim.)<p>

However, he also – slightly unwillingly – learned that John was kind-of OCD about his 50's – 90's era music. And that John had at one point trained a space-fish to wake him up for school. Like previously stated: Ianto didn't really want to know.

Fortunately, before John had a chance to outline any more of his and Jack's scandalous behaviors, there was a very loud knock on the door. Jack stood, but was almost run-over before he had a chance to even open the door fully. Tosh stormed into the room, clearly not pleased.

'uh-oh.'

"John Hart!" she practically screamed. "What did I tell you?"

"Umm… that Owen's a bitch and deserved to get shot?"

"Oh, thanks Tosh." Owen sneered, as He and Gwen added to the invasion of the group's privacy. "You told the creeper that he could kill me?"

"And hello to you too Owen. Of course you and Gwen can come in." Jack muttered sarcastically, sitting down on the unoccupied bed. "Because of course there's _no chance_ we were doing **anything** important."

Gwen smiled sweetly, sitting down in the seat that Jack had occupied a few moments before. Of course, this only demonstrated that she did not understand sarcasm. Ianto rolled his eyes, indicating that John wasn't the only person annoyed at her presumptions.

"Anyway. BESIDES that John." Tosh snapped, re-claiming his focus. "Remember what we talked about?"

"well… technically it's not morning yet." He complained. Tosh frowned, crossing her arms.

"John, It's six o'clock."

"But that's the middle of the night on my planet." John complained. Jack started laughing, as everyone else became severely confused.

"John, that so won't work, and you know it." Jack responded, making John pout. "You've spent enough time on 24 hour planets that you're more than used to the shift by now."

"But that doesn't mean I have to like it!"

"Then why do you continue to shun caffeine in the morning?"

"Well, after the stuff saved my life once, I figured that it deserved being avoided. Plus…"

"John, you're avoiding the topic." Tosh interrupted. (Fortunately, because Ianto might have had a coronary if their conversation had continued.)

"Maybe I am." He retorted. "So what?"

Tosh set her face in a thin, stern line of disapproval. Promptly, she proceeded to pull a Tupperware container out of her bag, and proceeded to throw it at John. He had just barely managed to catch it, before she threw plastic utensils and a napkin at him. These, unlike the Tupperware, hit John unceremoniously in the face.

"Ow! Tosh!" John exclaimed, rubbing his face (they had been rather heavy plastic utensils). "What the Ubhon was that for?"

"That" Tosh replied smugly, pointing. "Would be your breakfast."

John opened the container tentatively, fully expecting something unpleasant to jump out and eat him. You never knew with this lot… Fortunately, the plastic only held a stack of something resembling bread Frisbees. Oookaaaayyyyyyyyyy…

"And I expect them to be gone by the time we're ready to leave." Tosh confirmed his suspicions, that the strangely shaped THINGS were food. "ALL of them John."

Worried, but not entirely willing to admit his confusion to the entire group, he glanced over at Jack. When the other man raised an eyebrow, John bit his lip, hoping that Jack would understand his dilemma. Jack smirked, taking the container away from John.

"Tosh, thanks for getting John breakfast…" Jack answered for him, starting to do something or other with the cheap flatware. "But next time, check with me first, okay?"

Tosh seemed severely confused, but nodded, sitting down next to Ianto on the couch. This, therefore, apparently signaled a pre-set 'watch the two weird guys from the future have a _slightly-private_ moment' session.

However, John stopped needing to worry about them, as Jack began explaining this particular sliver of the 21st century.

"They're called pancakes John." Jack consoled, using the plastic fork to hold up a section of one of the 'pancakes'. It looked – well… to John at least – like a mini slice of pizza.

"A lot of people in this time period eat them for breakfast almost every day." Ha handed the container over to the cautious John. "I'm positive you'll be fine."

"What're they made of?" He responded critically, poking one with his finger. It squished slightly, but soon was back to it's normal shape.

'_a lot like a sponge.'_ John mused, his mind conjuring an imaged of a synthetic sponge in a kitchen sink. _'ick. No.'_

Jack sighed patiently, counting off the ingredients on his fingers.

"Typically, they're made up of pancake batter, milk, and eggs. Occasionally water as well." John didn't look convinced. "Alright, fine." Jack rolled his eyes. Clearly he was going to have to get technical.

"It's about 38% white wheat flour or…mostly starch and basic carbohydrates, C6H10O5, 34.5% is milk - 87.7% water, 4.9% lactose, 3.4% fat, 3.3% protein, and 0.7% minerals… like vitamins A-K and calcium. It's also got 22% standard chicken egg, 2.7% glucose - you should at least be familiar with that. C6h12. Plus 1.13% combined NaHCO3 and NaHCO3 + NaAl(SO4)2 + CaHPO3+C6H10O5, then 0.11% NaCl… and 4% CH3(CH2)16COOH. Satisfied?"

"Yeah…" John sighed. "Only one problem."

"What?"

"That adds up to 102.44… Not 100%." John complained. One of his less-well known traits was his love of poking fun at Jack's math skills.

"John." Jack growled dangerously.

"Yes?" he responded innocently.

"Shut the hell up and eat your pancakes already."

And so, John Hart, former time agent, wanted-by-many-centuries conman, prolific murder and all around crooked person, was introduced to pancakes.

After trying one, he was positive of at least one thing. He didn't like them. The chemical formula sounded cool… especially when Jack was the one reciting it – curse how sexy he found that – but the actual thing didn't taste all that good.

Unfortunately, John remembered Tosh's stern gaze on him. And immediately, the part of him that really wanted to make friends with her made the decision for him.

John smiled slightly when Tosh met his eye, and continued to eat the supplied "Breakfast" – no matter how sick it made him.

As John continued eating, the rest of the group moved on to different topics. Of course, it wasn't long until Gwen found the piece of paper that they had left on the table as a reminder. She picked it up, the screamed.

Ianto and Jack both turned a pale shade of pink, while John just leaned back. Gwen, no matter how enraged, just wasn't that scary.

"What were you lot up to?" she demanded, brandishing the notepad like a death warrant. All three of the not-so-guilty party shrugged.

John had written Jack's part of the bet on the notepad, so that he would remember to pay up if it turned out to be true. So, scrawled in John's very messy handwriting was:

'$30 Jack - Gwen don't know Bowie.'

"Just what the hell is that supposed to mean?" Gwen shrieked. And clearly, she wasn't talking about John's poor grammar.

"Well," John swallowed the (probably too large, in hindsight) bite of pancake he had been chewing on. "Do you?"

"Of course I do!" Gwen responded, a little too fast.

"So…?" Jack prompted. She looked flustered for a moment, before answering.

"It's a kind of hunting knife, isn't it?" she looked around the small group. "Well, isn't it?"

And that was everyone's cue to burst into laughter again (Except for Owen, who later turned out to have such a pathological hatred of the artist to not be amused) . Gwen turned an enraged shade of red, crumpling the piece of paper in her frustration.

"Alright, alright." John snickered, sitting up. "Before Jack gets any money, I have another question." Gwen looked tentative, but nodded. "Is the name Jim Henson at all familiar?" John asked, entirely serious.

"No." she responded, shaking her head. "Should it?"

Every single person in the room (including Owen this time), backed away from her at least three feet. Soon, Gwen was surrounded by a group of stern, startled faces.

"Okay… that's not natural."

"Gwen, _I_ know who Jim Henson is. And I haven't been born yet."

"You poor abused, underprivileged child…"

"What? You've never once seen the Muppets? EVER?"

Finally, John commented. "Alright, I'll believe it. Jack, you definitely won the bet." Then, almost silently, he mused, "And people call US freaks."

And thus, the great Labyrinth bet was ended, and Gwen was scheduled for quite a bit of Jim Henson film watching in the near future.

Once everyone had recuperated from _that_ particular coronary, Jack decided that they actually had to get SOMETHING done, rather than just sit around poking fun at each other.

"Okay, so let's figure out what we're going to do once it's late enough." He suggested, eyeing the group carefully.

"Just when is 'late enough'?" Owen asked, clearly impatient to be moving on.

"In about an hour and a half." John responded, shrugging. Jack rolled his eyes.

"No, it isn't." He corrected. "It's closer to 45 minutes. And one of the first things were doing is re-habilitating John to EARTH time."

Apparently John got no say in said 'rehabilitation'… so the conversation moved on.

"I'll have to check the Rift data to make sure that the spike was no more than a coincidence." Tosh asserted. "Just to make sure. We wouldn't want the Rift opening up again."

This was met by many nods of agreement.

[Jack…] John deliberately made his tone dangerous, as he looked at his ex. Right away, Jack's worry showed.

{umm… gulp?} John could tell Jack was mentally begging for mercy. His eyes narrowed.

[TELL Me you Didn't.]Jack's gaze shifted.

[You DID, didn't you?] It was definitely not a question.

{Maybe…} However, to John, it was clear that the answer was YES. That and how jack avoided eye contact.

He ground his teeth, just as Jack tried to explain how he had suddenly remembered that he left something in the SUV. Before he had a chance to leave, John was on top of him, his hands around Jack's throat and his knees pinning down the taller man's arms.

"I swear, I am sorely tempted to kill you right here." John snarled, tightening his grip around Jack's throat. And so soon after having done Just that – he wasn't actually joking.

"Uhhh… please don't." Jack asked a little weakly. "I'm not sure that would really help your cause much."

John's eyes narrowed into slits.

"Fine." He conceded. "But You and I are going to have a very, very long talk about this…" then, he glanced over at the rest of Torchwood. "In **Private**." He growled.

With that, John grabbed a fist full of Jack's shirt, dragging him towards the bathroom. He only let go once they were out of sight of the rest of the group. Provided, they could probably still hear, but that wasn't all that important.

"Now, Jack, you have ten seconds to come up with an explanation before I get really pissed off."

Jack scrounged around for a response, as time ticked away. Finally, just as blood was about to be shed, he answered.

"I – I didn't actually mean to."

And that was the snapping point.

"You didn't MEAN to?" John repeated. Only then did Jack realize his mistake. "Jack, you have a fucking Rift bloody Manipulator. It isn't like you could trip and accidentally turn it on one day! Hell, even Gwen probably knows not to screw with the damn thing."

"Uhh…" Jack swallowed, genuinely concerned for his life now. "Why don't we ask her about that…"

Unfortunately for Jack, John grabbed a hold of his hair, preventing him from leaving. Like a prisoner on death row, John dragged the unwilling captain into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind them.

'_And Jack thought that he got a migraine from the Doctor chewing him out._' Torchwood's commander didn't know the hell that he was a few seconds from facing.

To the rest of the team that was barred from the discussion, the following instances sounded like a very loud, very violent fight. However, this was actually a rather natural conversation method for the two former time agents. (and neither of them drew blood. THAT was an unusual occurrence)

Snarling, John shoved Jack to the floor, not really caring when he winced. The planet would have probably winced too – when it had a huge freaking hole torn in it by these idiots!

"Alright John… I understand that you're mad." Jack tried to smooth over, picking himself up. John scowled.

"Damn right I'm mad – Hell, I'm fucking pissed!" he spat. "Do you even remember ANYTHING we learned in school?"

Jack blushed, scratching the back of his head.

"Yea-" His response was cut short.

"No, you don't. Because you were too busy staring at the spacio-temperal physics teacher's ass to learn anything!" It was true, but it still made John feel at least a little bad to bring up Jack's failed classes. "Well, let me remind you of something." He sighed. "Rule number one, day number one: Don't do anything to the rift. Do you even remember That?"

Jack nodded. "Of course. John, look. I'm not stupid."

"Yeah right." John retorted, snorting. "Doesn't actually seem like it."

"What the hell makes you even think that?"

"Oh, let's see…" John started counting. "One, you decided to go traveling with the doctor. Very Stupid. Two, you worked for Torchwood. Three, you apparently couldn't figure out how to turn off a freaking alarm clock. Oh, and You Opened The Rift. Apparently by accident." Jack just stood, embarrassed. "Tell me Jack, how exactly do you ACCIDENTALLY open the fucking rift? Did you mistake the transmitter for a tree and go after it with a pickaxe? Something equally stupid?"

"actually…"

"Oh, don't tell me. 'It was Aliens.' Gee, thanks for blaming everything that goes wrong on ME and MY people."

"I wasn't going to…"

"Or, even better… you – fully aware of the consequences – opened up the rift, hoping that it would bring your precious little Doctor back to save you." John sneered.

"It wasn't actually my fault!" Jack screamed finally.

"The hell it wasn't!" John replied. "You could have murdered seven BILLION human beings, countless trillion other sentient creatures, and eradicated every fucking ounce of the earth… and you expect me to believe that it was a bloody accident?"

"I wasn't the one who opened the rift!" Jack begged. "Please, John, just listen to me!"

"Why should I Jack? Tell me that. Why should I? Everybody I've ever met has always called ME the homicidal maniac. So where are you standing from now? Where is your proof now, huh? Hypocrite!"

"But it wasn't me."

"Then who? Who the hell opened the rift Jack? Magic? Aliens? The bloody government? WHO?"

"My team, John."

"Oh, now that's rich." John laughed, sneering. "As if. Jack, I can't believe you would hire anyone stupid enough to even think about opening the rift. Didn't you tell them? Didn't you explain the danger that an open rift would put the planet – hell, the whole solar system - in? Didn't you tell them how it could collapse the black hole at the center of the fucking galaxy?" Jack thought he was ready to stop, but John had just paused to take a breath. "Didn't you? Or were you too busy prancing around Cardiff, pretending to be important. Did you just not bother, actually trusting that they would behave? And YOU! Jack, You're in charge of torchwood! Don't you know how to password encrypt something. Hell, full palm scanner. Did that not occur to you? Put a heat sensor on the manipulator, and a palm scanner. That isn't so hard to put together, is it? Was that another class you were preoccupied in? Is your team literally that stupid that they would just open the rift without your saying so?"

"They didn't know what they were doing!" Jack finally started defending himself.

John snorted. "That I can believe." Humans.

"John! It isn't like that, I swear. They were tricked. Everyone saw someone they loved begging them to open the rift. They were convinced that it was real. Look – Owen heard the girl that left him telling him that she was trapped by it. Tosh saw her mother. Ianto saw his dead girlfriend. Gwen's fiancé was Murdered, and she thought he would come back." John could see each and every piece of information about the people Jack was talking about. Both of their barriers had been torn down during their fight, so John had free reign to search Jack's memories. What he found made him barely sympathetic.

"Please John." Jack begged of his un-amused ex. "What would you have done if it was me?"

"I would have let you rot." John replied coldly. "Because I, unlike some people apparently, know not to mess with the rift."

Tears were now flowing freely from Jacks eyes, and he looked like John had just physically slapped him.

"Who did you see?" John demanded. "I'm positive it wasn't me."

"How?" jack whispered.

"You. Left. Me." John growled. That was all the explanation necessary.

"I said I was sorry."

"But you're not, are you?" John screamed, now in tears of his own. "You're never sorry for anything until it comes back and fucking kills you. You're not sorry for leaving me, you aren't sorry for dropping off the radar, Hell, I bet you aren't even sorry for abandoning Ianto for your stupid friend."

Jack had no response he could make, so he had no choice but to let John continue to rant.

"So, I'll ask again. Who? Who did YOU see? Because there's no way that the Heroic captain Jack Harkness would have ever let down a damsel screaming for his help." John wiped angrily at his tears. "so? What Bitch did You have calling out for you? 'Oh, obi-wan, come save me. You're our only hope'." It was a crude plagiarism of star wars, but it was accurate.

"Was it your darling little doctor? Because I know that you love him SO dearly." John's words dripped with sickly-sweet sarcasm. "or was it rose. Rosie… I knew it was only a matter of time before you screwed around with a blonde Jack. I just knew it. And look where that got you." Jack was practically pressed back against the wall as john invaded his personal space. John shoved Jack, hard, back into the door. Then, he did something both of them regretted later.

"No…" He paused, backing up a few steps. "You decided to open it for someone else. Regardless of the consequences, regardless of the human cost – regardless of the fact it would consume the planet! You tore open the rift because you wanted your fucking baby brother back, Didn't you?"

"They SHOT me!"

John fell deadly silent, as tears formed in Jack's eyes.

"John, they shot me. My own team, they betrayed me. The people I thought I could trust – the people I thought I loved like family shot me. THEY opened the rift. Owen shot me through the head, then the rest of them had the disgusting Idea of using MY DEAD BODY to unlock and function the Rift Manipulator."

John opened his mouth to make a comment, but was cut short.

"Now I have to live with them every fucking day! You might have expected it, but I didn't. I trusted them – I believed them! You know how hard it is for me to let people in like that. And what do they do? They kill me, without apparently any remorse, use my corpse to annihilate the planet, then beg for my help. No sympathy what so ever when I woke up John. None at all. They just started begging me to solve their fucking problems! Their choices made ME sacrifice. I had to go out, face Lucifer himself… because my team was a group of imbeciles who can't sympathize with me. It's like they don't care that I can still feel it!"

John stood, silently facing away, as Jack continued. He wasn't quite sure what to say.

"John…" Jack's voice had returned to normal levels. "Every time I die, it feels like my body is being torn to shreds by dull razor blades. If you can imagine it… it's probably worse than that." Jack gestured to the bandages holding John's arms together.

"I CAN imagine." John sympathized, now realizing he was chewing out the entirely wrong person.

"But that wasn't the end…" John's heart stopped dead at those words.

"What do you mean, that wasn't the end?" John asked, glancing over his shoulder.

"I had the whole of my life force torn from my body, like someone had just shoved their hand around my heart and was twisting it out. I died, but it closed the rift and sent the demon back." John could feel the horrible, ripping, consuming pain Jack was talking about. The faintest trace made him shiver.

"And?"

"And I lay dead for a week. That was right before I left." Jack sighed. "I doubt anyone really shed a single tear for me. They certainly didn't act like it when I woke up. But when I got back just today…" he shook his head.

{What was left of my soul died when they saw me.}

Meekly, John stole a glimpse into Jack's more recent memories. The second he glimpsed Torchwood's reaction, John became violently ill.

[Gwen's a bigger hypocrite than you made her out to be.]He responded.

And sure enough, Gwen's face was a mural of anger, disappointment, and lust.

Tosh was just dumbstruck, but not overjoyed.

Owen looked ready to break his nose, but didn't notice the dead look in Jack's eyes.

And Ianto… he just stared, not a single ounce of emotion on his face.

"You were the first person to smile at me today John." Jack admitted, slouching in defeat.

"Bastards." John muttered, sliding past Jack to get out the door.

Without even showing recognition to the group, he began collecting his stuff. All the while, John snarled quietly, more to himself – though he didn't care anyone overheard.

"Fucking Humans… fucking Torchwood… Fucking planet… fucking bastard team…" John had already shoved his jacket on, and was halfway through his belts when he started walking towards the door. "Fucking time lord bitch… fucking life."

Jack finally came out of the bathroom. Before John had a chance to open the door, there was a hand on his wrist.

"Please." The taller man begged. "Stay."

The request came at just over a whisper, but John still heard it clearly. He set his jaw, pulling out of Jack's grip.

"Sorry. I think I've stayed here long enough." But John was sure that Jack heard the underlying meaning of his words.

[If I stay here any longer, the rest of them will end up dead.]

Reluctantly, Jack nodded, letting him leave. John stepped out into the hallway, closing the door almost silently behind him. As he started to walk away, he realized that he had no way of knowing where he was. All he knew was that for the next half hour, he had to avoid himself. Because that kind of a paradox was definitely not something that a still recovering rift needed.

Confused and disoriented from his spiraling emotions, John staggered his way to the roof. Once his lungs filled with clean, cool air, his self-control broke down. He collapsed to his hands and knees, freely sobbing after so long. No one was coming for him, No one was after him. For the first time ever, he was safe.

_This is what free tastes like. _

* * *

><p>Still in the hotel room…<p>

Jack stood by the door, stunned at the sudden change of events. Not only had he lost John, but he had also lost some of his meager trust of his team. Well… not his team. Not really. Not anymore.

Jack leaned his head against the door, his fist pressed strongly into the metal, caught between fury and containment. Finally, after so long, he let himself cry. He cried for when he had to let Jasmine go to the fairies. He cried for when he had sent the REAL captain Jack to his death. The death that had to happen so that he could steal the man's name… his life. After all, wasn't that what he was doing? Jack was walking around with another man's life.

Jack cried for the betrayal he felt, for the pain that his friends had caused him. But they weren't , were they? No, he had lost his last friend. John. And there was nothing that he could do to ever get him back.

But most of all, Jack cried for what he had gone through with the doctor. He had left his co-workers, because the doctor had shown up, with hardly a second thought. John was right… He was a hypocrite. He was the biggest hypocrite ever. He had betrayed his team, in lieu of them having done the same thing to him.

But could they ever really understand what he had gone through? What he had gone through for THEM? For the whole planet? Funny, how he hadn't even considered it that way when John was here… like his effect was to make him see everything as just another piece of living. Because, after all, wasn't that true? Before John had left, it hadn't mattered much to him – the pain, the memories, because there was always something more important going on. But now that he finally had time to think, Jack realized how wrong the people he worked with had been. It wasn't all his fault. If he hadn't done what he had, then the world would still be enslaved.

You see, what few people knew, and only a handful understood, was that Jack had been a key part of the Doctor's plan. It was the plan they had all agreed on. And Jack was the center point. It was his Job to keep the Master distracted. As long as Jack continued to revive, then Saxon would be so obsessed that he couldn't focus on anything else with all of his attention.

It was Jack's torture that had kept Martha hidden, and safe.

It was the pain that HE endured, that had let the Doctor regenerate.

It was his lives that had replaced those of the dead.

It was him that had saved the world.

_If only someone else could see it that way. _

But no one else did. They all thought that he had left for no reason at all. That was the farthest from the truth. Unfortunately, the truth didn't change people's feelings. And Jack had to sense every teaspoon of hatred and blame. Immortality wouldn't be so bad if he didn't have the emotions to go along with all of the deaths.

His team wasn't his team anymore. His friends had long since ceased to be friends. His co-workers had replaced him. His family… had just slipped through his fingers like sand.

Just like John, Jack was now entirely alone in the universe… without a single tie to hold him down.

* * *

><p>Free.<p>

The word was strange, foreign to John. What did it really mean? Was this what it felt like all the time, or was it just the sudden shock? What was he supposed to do now?

But the one thing he was sure of, was that he was safe. John had finally rid himself of the weight that had always hung over him. He could do whatever he wanted or needed to. No longer was he bound by cruel orders and a strict military regime. His family was gone, no longer a threat until he died. The Agency couldn't reach him here, right below the rift.

In a little while, he might go back and find Torchwood again. But not right now. Not while they were still sore from his actions. He could apologize to Jack, maybe find help since he was a stranger to this city. But that wouldn't be a permanent solution. No. He would wander around a bit first, just to explore the new world he found himself in.

Of course, he would have to stay in Cardiff. He may be off limits here, but once he got out from under the protection of the rift, he was fair game again.

Slowly, fear began to consume him once again. He was still guilty, of so much. There wasn't a chance that he would get off this easy. Up until now, his life had been his penance for what he did. But since that no longer hung over him… what could the goddesses possibly have planned for him?

_Shwiln, please. If this is your sister's pardon of me, send me some sign of it so I won't live the rest of my life in terror. _

After waiting for what felt like hours, he felt a small relaxation that started in his chest and spread outward. At the sensation, he grinned. At long last, this was freedom.

Still crying from the pain of leaving Jack, and from the sudden shock of his liberation, he could only think of one thing to do.

On his knees in the bright city night, John started to laugh. He wrapped his arms securely around his chest, to hold on to the last traces of the feeling. And he laughed. While tears rolled down his face, forming a puddle on the rooftop around him, John laughed.

* * *

><p>Slowly, as if it were his last trip ever, Jack turned around from the door. Though his eyes were red and flooded, they still held emotion. He walked deliberately back over to the bed where he had left his bag. Without a word to the others in the room, he started packing up whatever he had brought with.<p>

Finally, one of the humans in the room got up the courage to ask a question.

"Jack?" Tosh's voice was unsure. Jack barely registered it, and he certainly didn't look over. "What are you doing?"

"Leaving." He responded simply. Having finished cramming everything into his backpack, he threw it over one shoulder. At last, he looked at them.

As he had expected, all of them were curious. And all of them felt betrayed. All of them had some level of fear – but only for themselves. He had known all of that before even coming out of the bathroom. What he wanted to know was if there was any remorse in any of them.

Before Gwen could ask her typical question, he answered it.

"It's pretty clear that I don't belong here anymore."

Jack turned, starting to walk out. But he sensed their tension, their un-sureness of his decision. He ground his teeth, his fingernails biting into the lined skin of his palm.

'Fine. If they doubt my resolve, then I'll give them my reasons.'

He turned around, looking each of them in the eye. To his surprise, Ianto stood in front of him, visibly shaken.

"Don't go." He begged, meeting Jack's eyes. "Please."

It was a desperate plea, but just one person asking wasn't enough to break his feelings of debt to John.

"I just wanted you lot to know something." He growled, unfazed by Ianto's request. "I Left for you. I Died for you. And I came back for YOU." At his last word, Jack jabbed a finger into Ianto's chest.

He waited a few seconds, but there was no response. Sickened, he spun around, making it almost all the way to the door before he was interrupted again.

"Where will you go?" Ianto asked, worry clear in his voice. Jack shrugged, addressing the door.

"I'm gonna find John, and apologize. After that, who knows." He glanced over his shoulder. "Why should it matter?"

"How do you know he's still here?" Gwen asked. Just the sound of her voice made Jack mad.

"This is Cardiff. Because of the rift, he's safe here." Jack sighed. "And he wouldn't jump timelines either."

"Why wouldn't he just go home?" Gwen continued, clearly trying to get jack to stay longer.

Jack swallowed his tears coming back strongly. Furious, he spun around.

"Because he doesn't have a home anymore!" He screamed. Then, in a quieter voice, "just like I don't."

'Not anymore,' he thought, as he walked out, without the slightest glance backwards.

* * *

><p>Ianto stood in the middle of the room, stunned. Meekly, he turned around, to face what remained of Torchwood.<p>

"He'll come back." Gwen said nonchalantly, leaning backwards. "He always does."

And then it hit him.

"No, he won't." Ianto corrected. Everyone sat, staring at him in confusion. Their faces were plain to read.

What? What do you mean he won't come back? He has to. He just – he just does.

"His last tie broke." Ianto sighed, collapsing down on the bed John had Just been lying on less than ten minutes earlier. Slowly, he met each team member's eyes.

"Jack doesn't have any reason at all to come back to us." Tears threatened as Ianto's words sank in. "WE drove him away. We killed him, welcomed him back to life, then replaced him. Why?" He paused, weighing the consequences of what he was about to say. "Because Jack dared to want something for himself. Jack Dared, and he was hurt worse than death for it."

Gwen opened her mouth, as if she was about to comment, but Ianto cut her off.

"Jack wanted to live. And when I said he wanted something for himself, I say that because it's the only thing he's really, really wanted for a long time. To be mortal again." Ianto bit his lip, to stop the flow of tears. "But he couldn't, see? He went with the doctor because he had faith the he would be able to be fixed. But he couldn't. The Doctor said No. Could you understand that?" Ianto glanced around the small group. "Jack put decades of his life into the faith that the doctor could fix him. It was the only thing that kept him from entirely falling apart. And right when he needed sympathy, when that faith was destroyed, what did we do?"

Tosh was in tears now, understand what Ianto was saying.

"But it gets worse." He continued. THIS was the part that would kill them. "He didn't come back right away. That's the problem. On top of his broken heart, Jack has hours of physical pain added to it."

A patient silence met him, as Ianto caught up with his mind.

"Jack was tortured. Before or after the Doctor told him no, I can't be sure. But he died. I'm positive. Whether it was just three months, or longer, I have no idea. There is no way for any of us to know even part of the pain he must have gone through."

"How?" Gwen asked. She was still confused about how Jack could have wanted to be 'fixed' for them. To her, that sounded very selfish.

"He can't die." Ianto and Owen answered at the same moment. Finally, Tosh spoke up.

"Gwen, whatever happens to Jack, can be monumentally worse than what any of us would have to live through." She explained quietly. "He could literally be dismembered bit by bit, then have his heart torn out of his chest. But he would have to remember the pain once he came back to life."

Finally, Gwen seemed to get it. Ianto stood up, starting to pace.

"And after all that, how do we treat him?" he now stared at Gwen. "We replaced him, and treated him like an outsider. The first 'welcome home' he got was from a man he hasn't seen since his early twenties." Bile worked its way up Ianto's throat.

"We acted like we owned him. Like he belonged to us… Belonged to Torchwood." Ianto sighed. "But no matter how long he put in, that isn't how anyone should be treated. It isn't important, the fact that he can't die. His immortality should have nothing to do with how we treat him." Another thought occurred to him. "In that respect, we're just as bad as Torchwood London."

"And we're just starting to sympathize with him Now, since it's too late."

* * *

><p>John sensed Jack's approach, before he even stepped out onto the roof. He didn't send out any sign of recognition to lead Jack to him. Then again, he didn't block their link either. Slowly, he began to get control of his hysterics long enough to talk.<p>

"I thought that you were staying with your team." He noticed, standing up. "Why the sudden change?"

Jack walked towards him, from out of the shadows covering the door.

"They aren't MY team anymore." He shrugged. "they stopped being my team when they replaced me."

"so you came to me?" john wondered, incredulous. Jack shrugged again.

"I just realized, when you have something…" he stepped forward, so that john could just make out the traces of his tears in the hazy light.

"that's really important to you…" John felt jack take his hand, holding it gently. "you don't-"

At that very moment, the door to the roof slammed shut, and someone came running towards them. Before they could interrupt, Jack pulled John to him, holding the smaller man close. John smiled weakly, until he realized who it was.

"Gwen." He growled. Jack sent a feeling of reassurance through their link.

{don't worry about her.}

"Jack!" Gwen shrieked. John winced, disappointed at Jack's apparent lie. Soon enough, Gwen had torn him away from John, and had him in a hug that might have split his ribcage open.

"Ohmygod Jack, I'm so sorry!" she sobbed into Jack's shirt, as John stood, helpless. Everything always fell apart on him. It just did. In his depression, he ignored whatever was said, even when Gwen dragged Jack away.

However, right before Jack left hearing range, he called out.

"You lied." That caught Jack's attention. "You're leaving me again, aren't you?"

Jack opened his mouth to say something in reply, but Gwen dragged him away too soon. Tired, John sat down on the edge of the roof, watching the early morning start up all over Cardiff.

* * *

><p>John's words stung Jack like a knife wound. And the fact Gwen had interrupted was rock salt added to the mixture.<p>

Oblivious to Jack's building rage, the enthusiastic welsh woman pulled him down the staircase, to where everyone else was waiting. Well, except for Ianto. Jack vaguely wondered where he was, until he saw the young man running towards them.

"Gwen!" Ianto shouted, obviously annoyed about something. "I thought I told you to leave him alone?"

"But he was on the roof, and John was there with him. I – what if he had pushed Jack off again?"

Her concern may have been touching, but right then, Jack was fed up with the whole group.

"Get your hand off me." He snarled, pulling away and heading right back for the stairs.

"Wait!" Gwen yelled, and Jack could sense her distress. "But I said I was sorry!"

"For what?" he asked, turning to face her. "Because unless you know exactly what to be sorry for, then an apology is just a few words in the right order. So what are you sorry for?"

"We – you died, and we treaded you badly." She stammered. Jack rolled his eyes. "we opened the rift, and you had to die because of it. You warned us not to, but we ignored it and then Abaddon showed up, and you died, and we didn't apologize when you woke up. And – and you left, and we acted like you weren't allowed to…"

At that, Jack burst out laughing.

"If you think that I'm still bitter over Abaddon, then you don't know me." He smirked. "I left, because I wanted to give YOU the chance to have normal lives. Not have to live knowing that your morality would be staring you in the face every time you saw me." then, he met Ianto's eyes. "And when I say I died for you, I mean it. Abaddon was a monumental pussy compared to the master."

There. He had managed to say His name. That wasn't too bad.

The next thing he said came as a surprise to everyone.

"Look, I might not leave entirely. But I will mend things with John." Jack pulled something out of his bag, showing it to the group. It was a photo album. "He thinks that I forgot him once I left. But I never did. I always carry this around with me, no matter what."

"What is it?" Gwen asked.

"Some of my only happy memories." Jack explained. "From my entire life." With that, he started up the stairs again.

"I'm coming with you." Gwen asserted suddenly. Jack heaved a heavy sigh.

"You can't." he said. "None of you can. John has a deep and profound distrust and hatred of humanity. That may be one of his traits that we have in common." This earned him many stares. "John's not going to open up, let alone calm down enough for me to talk to him if you're there. Especially since he now views you all as people who almost annihilated the planet."

"We didn't mean to." Tosh muttered, embarrassed. Jack's anger softened some.

"I know. But John doesn't care. To him you're just a bunch of lunatics." This seemed to have little effect, so he sighed, continuing. "Fine. If I can get John calmed down enough to come back with me, I'll stay. Okay?" the group still looked unsure. "You can stay here and guard the door if you want."

"Why the sudden change of mind?" Ianto wondered.

"Hey, Torchwood's been my home since I was a kid." Jack shrugged. "A century makes for a hard habit to break. So I want to hold on to as much as I can. John's just one of those things that slapped me upside the head and won't leave." Jack grinned. "Like I'm gonna let my roommate leave without tellin' him where I ended up." After a moment's thought, he added quietly, "Plus, I still owe you a date."

Then, before anyone else could have the bright Idea to stop him, Jack ran up the stairs… probably leaving Ianto with a lot of questions to field.

Jack stepped back out onto the roof, scanning it for any sign of John. He was just about to turn around, when he was shoved up against the wall.

John's face was less than an inch from his, and his grin spelled trouble.

"You talk too loud." He chastised, enjoying the feel of Jack's shirt clenched in his hands. Jack opened his mouth to make a sarcastic retort, but John decided at that moment to kiss him. And while he may have been mentally unstable, that had no effect what so ever on his kissing ability. Jack was just lucky that there was a wall behind him, otherwise John probably would have dropped him when his knees gave way.

When John pulled back, Jack found he had just enough air in his lungs to ask one question.

"So… I take it you heard the photo album part?"

John hit him with another one of his impish grins as a response.

"That… and then some." He let go of Jack's shirt. "You have a date with Eye candy. And you didn't tell me." John mockingly scolded him. "Shame on you."

Jack found himself grinning despite everything. John followed him to the stairs before making his next comment.

"Oh, and you lied."

Jack turned around, already two steps down.

"About what?" He demanded.

"Abaddon." John shrugged. Jack sighed, continuing down the stair case. Curse theology classes in all shapes and forms.

"You told me you had to face Lucifer. I was actually feeling worried for you."

"Gee, thanks." Jack called back.

John grinned, sliding down the hand rail. "You're welcome. Plus, you totally flunked fencing." He jumped off, hitting the ground long before Jack did. "I was thinking that you had to go up against the vengeful archangel. Abaddon's a pushover compared to Lucifer – all you've gotta' do is drop him in a black hole. Tada, done, over, time to go out and get drunk! But Lucifer. Geeze, I thought that you were chopped up into little bits by a pissed off fictional reference."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "I'll have you know, my skills with any sort of blade have improved tremendously."

"oh they have, have they?" He smiled. "Care to demonstrate?"

"Only if nobody else is around." Jack laughed, causing all of the people born in this era to be worried. But soon enough, their worries were dissipated when Jack grinned at them.

"So, you two are coming along?" Owen assumed, pushing off of the wall he had been leaning on. Jack smiled, wrapping a soothing arm around John's shoulders.

"Ah, I don't see why not."

John grinned, snuggling his head into the hollow of Jack's shoulder. Shrugging, they started down the hall.

"I just now realized that you're really comfy." John muttered into Jack's shirt. The rest of the group stopped in front of them… except for Ianto, who seemed not to have noticed John's comment.

"What?" Jack laughed. "After ten years of us sharing an apartment, and you're just now realizing that you like cuddling?"

"uh-hun" John confirmed, burying his nose deeper into Jack's coat. "And you smell nice too." He added. (Just in case Jack was having any doubts about his insanity.)

"Then explain how you're first comment nearly every morning was that I was soft."

John shrugged. "Whatever. It's still true."

"Actually, I think the exact wording you used was 'yousa' cozy'."

By the time their miniature debate over John's phrasing of 'Jack is comfortable', they were already about halfway down the hall. Jack let go of John's shoulders, so that he could talk to Ianto for a little while. However, when he looked back, he wasn't all that surprised to see John… with his nose buried deep in a book.

'pfff… as if he expected me to have at all stopped reading.' John thought, walking without so much as glancing away from his page. This, thought usual for John, attracted quite a bit of attention from the other members of the group.

"John, what are you actually reading?" Jack demanded. John shrugged. In truth, it was just some random hard cover book he had picked up – alright, stolen – from the room. There was this weird shape on the front… sort of like a +. So, at first he had thought it was a math book. Only it definitely wasn't. THAT much he was sure of by the first page.

"An interesting work of pulp fiction." He answered, continuing to walk past the others.

_'Who are all standing in the hallway for no apparent reason'_, John thought. _'like they haven't seen someone navigating from memory before. Geeze, welsh are thick'_ (although two of the three bystanders weren't from wales originally… but we'll ignore that for the moment).

"John…" Ianto seemed a bit hesitant when he spoke. "That's the king James Bible."

Ahh… so that's why it sounded like complete nonsense.

"Exactly." John shrugged, finally looking up. "Like I said. Pulp fiction."

Gwen seemed to have a minor heart attack at that comment, everyone else (aside from Jack) went pale, and John went back to reading. He was already about ten yards ahead of them before Jack managed to convince the group to keep walking.

He overheard part of Jack's comment. "Yes, I'm positive that he isn't contagious."

John stopped, turned around, and waited. Sighing, he placed on hand on his hip, the other holding his place in the book.

"So I take it you haven't gotten around to mythology in my backstory Jack?" He smirked, tapping his fingers against his belt. Jack smiled, shrugging.

"I guess now would be a good time to mention that John's pagan, right?"

This was met by a variety of reactions. Tosh and Owen exchanged looks, Ianto raised an eyebrow, and Gwen… Gwen seemed ready to be violently ill. However, the biggest issue was John. Or, rather, John's disapproval of that assessment.

"Pagan… that means a religion that is comprised of multiple gods and goddesses, where the stories are mostly made up to compromise a lack in scientific knowledge." He shrugged. "Sorry babe. I ain't pagan."

Jack sighed. "John, you have thirteen goddesses. How is that not pagan?"

"Because my religion has morals." He responded, turning back around and continuing to read. "Just because I may not be monotheistic doesn't make me pagan. Half of Zol's sisters are still virgins mate."

John could sense Jack rolling his eyes, and smirked.

"Oh, and by the way…"He could feel the group involuntarily shudder. "Your van's suspension is overdue to be replaced by about a year." John grinned over his shoulder. "You might want to look into that."

Afterwards, Jack confiscated the bible from John, much to his disappointment. And he was only half way through it too. The rest of the way to the SUV was relatively painless after that. Well, except for the stairs.

John, in his rush to get out of the room, hadn't bothered to tie his shoes. Typically, that wouldn't be a problem. However, the issue arose when he tried to walk down the stairs. That caused problems.

Just as John started down the stairs, the heel of one of his boots slid down his foot. When he tried to take another step, his ankle twisted in his shoe, causing him to lose his balance. Fortunately, Jack had gone ahead of John, just in case something went wrong.

So, when John started to fall forward, Jack was standing right there to catch him. Almost as if he knew that his ex was going to get into trouble.

When John felt himself start to fall forward, he involuntarily put his hands out to break his fall. In the back of his mind, he could feel the tired, groggy desire stirring again. Annoyed by its waking, John closed his eyes, waiting for gravity to pull him down the flight of stairs.

However, instead of collapsing down the stairs, his fall was broken by something – actually, someone. Jack let john lean on him, as he caught his breath. His heart was racing, and John could feel a embarrassed flush crawling from between his shoulders. Finally, he straightened, annoyingly reluctant to let go.

"Umm… sorry." He muttered, pulling his boot back into place. Jack smirked, stepping back from John.

"You okay?" He asked, glancing back towards the rest of the group.

"Yeah." John nodded, struggling furiously to contain his embarrassment. He swallowed, shrugging the feeling off after about half a second.

Jack set his jaw, which made john concerned once more.

'_Does he not believe me? Or does he think that I'm hiding something else? Well, I wouldn't put it past him. After all, I still haven't explained why I changed my mind.' _

Fortunately, Jack only made him sit down and tie his shoes before they left. That, and return the book to the front desk.

They also heard that there had been a lot of complaints during the night. Apparently, a lot of people ahd heard loud Genesis music.

* * *

><p>Océane: Oops… so much for not attracting attention? Oh, and I apologize for John's bi-polarness… it was sort of needed to keep this chapter on track. Plus, I just couldn't resist.<p>

John: gee, thanks. Still… Océane wants reviews. (seriously, she's been nagging me about them for like, ever.)

Océane: PLEASE! *puppy eyes* I'll write cute fluff scenes if you do!

John: *backs away in terror* umm… you know, now would be a really good time to go check on –

Océane: I'll put john in Pink! That's what I'll do.

John: Oh, no. I draw the line at pancakes. No. I. Will. NEVER. Wear pink.


	11. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Océane: Oh, and as I forgot to mention, I don't own labyrinth, David Bowie, the Muppets, etc…

John: Finally! Océane is back! She's still here… (leers slightly in my direction) She's pretty darn hot.

Océane: shut up. But I am back! A billion thanks to Potrix! You are Ezhisk babe!

John: seriously, the plot bunny has gone missing some how.

Océane: you mean you **murdered** him and took his place.

John: maybe… Anyway, Océane doesn't own torchwood, Doctor who, or anything else.

Océane: Enjoy! But keep the matches in the box flamers!

DEATH_

Nestlings

He followed the group back into the hub, only a half an hour after they had left it. Well… one version of them. John rolled his shoulders, to keep from freaking out when the alarm went off again. Hopefully, he would get over that particular fear before anyone else found out about it. That was definitely something he did not need on top of everything else.

John shuddered, thinking about - among other things - how Gwen-bleeding-Cooper would react to finding out that he was startled be loud noises. He blatantly put that thought aside, while keeping his head down so that no one would notice his reaction.

John stayed a little back from the Torchwood team, just to give himself a little room to breathe. He needed space to collect his thoughts and emotions. When he started to go over the day's events, a cold shiver went down his spine. After all the time that he had been planning it, to have his suicide intervened in twice, was almost unheard of. But not with Jack around. The man made basically anything possible, no matter what. Still… John couldn't shake the feeling that he was screwing around with borrowed time.

He was startled out of his thoughts by a piercing screech overhead. John looked up, grinning when he caught sight of Myfanwy. The huge Pterosaur blocked out the florescent lights temporarily with her wings. The shadows cast around her massive form made eerie shapes against the steel grate floors, making it disorienting to look down.

Gently, John tried to connect with her mind. He was rewarded, as Myfanwy looked down at him. She called again, confirming that she had noticed his presence. John could sense her curiosity, and her internal guidance. But there was something beyond that, something that nobody else would be able to notice. He started to pick up on a mild telepathic field from the Pterosaur, probably to recognize the needs of her hatchlings.

Myfanwy started to fly off in one direction, calling back. John grinned, following her, as he navigated his way around the Hub on his own. When the reptile came into sight again, John sped up, watching as she circled the Rift Manipulator. Slowly, she began to drop in height, spiraling downwards with every circle. It was clear that she was starting to land, but John couldn't figure out where.

Finally, he came to the top of a staircase. Suddenly, John broke out into a grin, sliding down the handrail.

Myfanwy stood on her hind legs, letting out a series of quiet clicks, like the pulses from sonar. He smiled, glancing around. She had found a flat, empty area, just out of sight from the rest of the group. Her claws were hooked in the grating, to help her stay balanced.

John started to approach, his hands out to his sides slightly. Myfanwy stopped making her clicking noise for a moment, dropping down. Fear split through him for a second, as the thought occurred to him that she might crush him. Fortunately, Myfanwy had other plans.

She dropped down, folding her wings so that she could stand on four limbs. John grinned, relieved that he wasn't in danger for the moment. Once again, he reached out mentally, soothing her as he tried to connect. Myfanwy returned the contact, her response feeling like a cuddle from a pet.

John came still closer, not yet bold enough to reach out and touch her. He froze, as Myfanwy came towards him, walking on all fours. Suddenly, John found that he had the theme music from Jurassic Park playing in the back of his head (not the "oh my god, there are dinosaurs and they're amazing" music, but the "fucking hell, the T-Rex Just ate that lawyer!" music.) John backed away, as she fixed him with the Pterosaur equivalent of the stink eye. Startled, he stopped, raising his hands to shoulder level.

'_okay, okay girl. I'll stay put. Just don't decide that I look like dino-meat, okay? Please?'_

Surprisingly, Myfanwy seemed to react. John felt a slight pull on the line he had thrown across into her mind. She started to clack, hesitantly reaching out towards him as she came closer. John let himself smile a little, cautiously reaching out with one hand.

Myfanwy paused, staring at him in interest. Then, she nuzzled her beak against his hand, purring contently. John smiled, tenderly rubbing his hand over her smooth, warm skin. He came closer, so that he could reach up to Myfanwy's forehead. As he started to rub against her head-crest, she jerkily shoved her head into his palm. Instead of the offence that he had expected, she seemed genuinely pleased.

John smiled, rubbing more deliberately – almost petting. Myfanwy trilled, as tears pricked at his eyes. It had been forever since John had a pet – of any sort. In fact, his last pet had been a miluvian shark. When she had died, John hadn't had the heart to get another pet.

Myfanwy seemed to pick up on John's sadness, as she cuddled closer. She clacked gently, as if asking if he was alright. Swallowing, John tried to stem his tears enough to nod. But, they just wouldn't stop. Myfanwy trilled again, this time it sounding more like a chastising parent than a pleased pet.

'_**talk.' **_

John took an involuntary step back, just from the shock of Myfanwy's words. He hadn't been expecting any contact of that sort, just images and feelings.

Myfanwy followed him, trilling annoyedly. Once again, she pressed her head into his open palm, nuzzling against it.

'_**talk!'**_ she repeated, now a clear demand.

John smiled weakly. Well… at least he had one new friend.

DEATH_

While John was preoccupied watching Myfanwy, Jack was busy, trying to get the Hub back into order after his extended absence. He thought he saw John leave in the corner of his eye, but there were more immediate issues.

"Tosh, go on and do whatever you need to about the rift. If anything major shows up, scream and I'll be right there, okay?" Tosh nodded, and started typing.

"Okay… Gwen, go home." She opened her mouth, already planning a complaint, but Jack cut her off. "Gwen, look. John is going to be staying here for a while, since he can't very well go out and find a job. So, you can either go home and recuperate," he smirked, a devious glint in his eye. "Or you can help me pull my old cot out of storage."

Gwen closed her mouth, turning around and leaving. Ianto watched her leave, before shrugging. He figured that she was still moody over John's behavior earlier, though it was understandable. (John's behavior, not Gwen being moody)

Jack sighed. "Well then. Owen, make sure that your arm's bandaged and healing right." Owen started to make a snarky comment. "That's an ORDER Owen, not a request. The last thing I want is to have to take you to the ER because it's gotten infected."

Owen sighed, but set about cleaning equipment and finding bandages.

"What about John then?" He asked, measuring out a dose of morphine before he pulled off the bandage. Jack shrugged.

"Let's get you taken care of first. Then you can look him over."

Owen frowned. "You say that like I have a choice."

Jack smirked. "Well, you can either spend half an hour making sure that John's okay, or you can clean this place up."

Owen looked like Jack had just hit him.

"What?"

Jack grinned. "What, you thought that I didn't notice?" He gestured to the piles of junk surrounding them. "It was definitely not like this when I left. And I'm pretty positive that Ianto's OCD is committing suicide at this moment."

Ianto nodded his agreement. "Yes, actually, it is. Now, I'm going to be in the armory."

Jack waved, as Ianto set off to organize and lock up the seventy-pound box of stuff that they had taken off John earlier. (or maybe it just seemed like it was seventy pounds because of how long it had taken to get him to hand all of it over…)

Jack sighed, climbing over the piles of cables and around tables to the stairs that led up, to his office. He barely paid attention to the small changes that Gwen had obviously made while he was gone. He knew that it had to be Gwen that had moved things around. For one, she had talked a lot about it giving him more room if he shifted his desk. (More room for WHAT exactly, he didn't really want to know). And another, the notes stuck to his desk were on Pink post-its. And while it eliminated Owen from suspicion, it also got rid of Tosh – she had a severe prejudice against the color pink.

He slid down the ladder into his small room, expecting just as few changes to have been made. However…

Jack frowned, silently making his way back up the ladder, across his office and down the staircase. He stood right behind Tosh, leaning over to whisper in her ear.

"Toshiko…" Jack muttered, feeling her back stiffen. "Whose idea was it to pack up my room?" He asked sweetly.

Tosh turned slightly, frowning. "Gwen – Gwen told Ianto to clean it out if you weren't back in two months. She said that she would want to use the space for something else." Tosh swallowed, and Jack could feel her anxiety about having him this close. But, despite that, he still felt that she was more comfortable to have him _Too_ close than to not have him there at all. Jack stepped back a bit, and Tosh continued.

"But, I-Ianto refused to do anything with your quarters. He wouldn't stop ho- we all knew that you would come back at some point. And you wouldn't want all your stuff to be messed with." Jack noticed how she stopped herself from using the phrase 'give up hope'.

Jack felt himself growing angry again. Why did she think that she had the right to invade his personal space? Did that mean that he now was allowed to walk in to her house any time he wanted? Jack suspected the answer to that was no, because of how she reacted to him.

"So Gwen packed it up herself." Tosh's emotions told Jack all he needed to hear, and whatever Tosh didn't say was clear: 'the only stupid thing she did on her own while you were gone.'

"Tosh…" he sighed, stepping back. "Don't touch anything in my bedroom, okay?"

Jack started back up the stairs, when Tosh called out suddenly,

"Jack!" He turned around, just in time to see her start to cry. "I'm glad your back!"

Finally, Jack felt a smile crease his features. Slowly, he nodded.

"Thanks." It was barely more than a whisper, but he was sure Tosh heard it.

With that, he went back into his room, to start digging through the cardboard boxes Gwen had so carelessly packed up. After close to forty minutes of searching, he finally found what he was looking for.

Jack grinned, pulling his old, full-arm gloves out of the very bottom of one of the packages. He shook them out, before trying to zipper one around his arm. It didn't fit, but that was even better. After all, he was grabbing them for someone a lot smaller than him.

Jack folded the gloves up, zippering them closed so that they wouldn't fall open. On his way back through his office, he paused. Jack frowned, scrutinizing the changes Gwen had made to his office. Then, it hit him.

The piece of TARDIS coral he had been raising for the past century and a half wasn't where it was supposed to be.

Panicking at the thought that Gwen, in her blind stupidity, had thrown it out, Jack began to feverishly search for it.

'_Her'_ he reminded himself. _'it's a baby TARDIS, so it's a Her.'_

Papers scattered across the floor, and he probably overturned the chair, desperate to find his infant ship. Finally, Jack let out a relived sigh when he found her.

Gwen had cruelly stowed her away in the back corner of a bottom, dark, scary drawer. (Jack could feel her terror through the inch of plywood.) When he pulled open the drawer, Jack was rewarded by a blooming of joy from the baby TARDIS. She wasn't just happy to be out in the light again, but to have her surrogate daddy back as well.

Sighing, he sat down under his desk, unbothered by all of the clutter. Gently, he ran his fingers over the coral's surface, smiling as she warmed at his touch.

Finally, he had found the un-conditional love he needed to heal.

DEATH_

Owen growled to himself, measuring out his dose of morphine. He didn't like using himself as a pin cushion… then again, he wasn't all that keen on sticking other people. Regardless, he did have a hole in his arm, and it did need to be treated.

Before he even had a chance to start cutting the old bandage off, Jack came back down the stairs. Owen paused, before setting down the medical scissors and watching. Everyone was worried about Jack – more so now that they knew what he had gone through. Owen would have liked to put his concern down as just his inner doctor looking after his patient.

However, that would have been lying to himself... Fortunately, Owen had a lot of practice in that field. So, he ignored the tiny part of him telling him 'hey, idiot… you're friends with the man!'

He watched silently, until Jack leaned over Tosh's shoulder. He sighed, beating down the feeling that welled up in his stomach. That is, until Tosh turned to face Jack.

Owen ground his teeth, blindly ignoring the envy growing inside him. He turned his attention back to fixing his arm, but couldn't help glancing back every few seconds. Tosh hadn't moved, but seemed to be talking to Jack. Owen tried to stop watching, but the bitter part of him refused to stop its vigilance.

'They're so close together.' He thought, shuddering. 'probably could kiss…'

But Jack wouldn't do that, would he? He had to know… but how could he? Owen hand never told anyone about how he felt… hell, he didn't even admit it to himself. Besides, Jack didn't go like that. Him and tea boy were pretty solid proof of that. So was John… but Owen wasn't quite ready to go there yet. Jack's words from hours ago still stung pretty badly.

"_Owen, he bothered to notice that I went through HELL while I was gone. And he hasn't even seen me in over a hundred and fifty years. That puts him above most of you in my books" _

What made John notice something that he had missed? Owen had worked with Jack for just under four years, and in that time, he had thought that he had gained a strong understanding of the man. Apparently not. However, John's insight may have been based off of prior experiences, something the Owen just didn't have. And, guiltily, he was glad to leave those ordeals to the two other men. It may have made him cruel, but Owen was positive that he would have jumped off a bridge rather than face a week in either's shoes.

Not that he would tell anyone, but John scared him. He scared him like nothing else. Owen was positive that if given the chance, John could easily kill him without a second thought. He had already proved his lethality, having pushed Jack off a roof. And they had been close – maybe even best friends. So if John was capable of doing that to his friend, how did that bode for the rest of them? What sort of threat did that make John to him?

Of course, it wasn't just his self-preservation instinct that made Owen dislike John. He felt threatened by the other man's presence on an entirely different level. Because, as he was reluctant to admit, Owen was the jealous type.

When Tosh had voiced her approval of John, Owen had swallowed a small feeling of envy. But as the two of them grew closer, he found it harder to ignore the sensations. The only thing he could think of to do about it was talk to Tosh, but Owen was wary. He didn't want to say something he didn't mean to, or have something come out wrong.

Finally, Jack left, going back into his re-organized office. Owen licked his lip, his mouth suddenly dry. As Tosh resumed going over the Rift scanner, he went back to bandaging his shoulder. That is, until he just couldn't stand the silence anymore.

"What did he want?" Owen asked, nodding towards the directing Jack had just gone.

"Nothing much." Tosh shrugged. "Just who had messed with his stuff."

"Oh." Owen let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. Something about that answer seemed, simple. Safe. Maybe too safe, he re-considered. After all that they had been through, anything simple seemed to come under scrutiny.

Tosh raised an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"

Owen paused, considering his answer. He didn't want to answer – not when He didn't even know the truth. So he couldn't tell Tosh. Even if he did think… no. NO, he didn't.

"I, well, just wanted to make sure he wasn't worried about things." That was a believable enough answer, wasn't it?

Tosh smiled. "Owen, is it possible that you're actually being considerate?"

Owen snorted. "As if. I just don't want Jack snapping, especially with his crazy ex around. One person on a psychotic break is enough for me, Thank you."

Tosh's smile faltered, as Owen went back to his shoulder. He barely winced as he injected the dosage of painkillers into his arm.

DEATH_

At least half an hour later, Jack came down from his office again. He needed to give John time to re-acclimate before throwing him another curveball. His unease over re-appearing so suddenly had been calmed by the tiny piece of normality his baby ship had provided. She wouldn't run away from him like her big sister and her pilot had.

'that's because you're her daddy.' He thought, smiling a little. His baby ship sang in the back of his mind, confirming this sentiment.

Jack smiled, making his way to the armory, where he knew Ianto would be. He stood in the doorway for a minute, watching the young man's every movement. He had told Ianto the truth. More than the others, he had missed him.

And regardless of what Owen may say, he did miss more than the sex. Ianto just managed to understand him better than the others. He accepted what Jack was willing to tell them about himself, and didn't push for any more information.

Though he did miss the physical comfort. Jack couldn't help but wonder how much more bearable the Doctor's rejection might have been if Ianto had been there to soothe it away. But instead, he had to wait over a year to receive any form of consolation. And the first bit of sympathy… well, it certainly hadn't been from the person Jack would've expected.

That was something he was hoping to change, and soon. If there was just a way that he could make everyone understand what had happened while he was gone… but Jack knew that could never happen. If even that small number of people remembered, the paradox's seal could easily fracture. It didn't stop him from wishing there was someone he could talk to and who would understand his feelings.

"Are you just going to stand there staring at me all day… sir?" Ianto asked. Jack smiled, knowing that he had switched back to formality for the sole reason of taunting him.

"Well, it is a gorgeous view." He grinned, leaning against the door frame. Ianto turned, fixing him with a disbelieving look.

"Is it now?"

Jack paused, swallowing. He could tell where this conversation was going, but he wasn't sure that he would be ready for that yet. It would probably give anyone who knew him a heart attack to hear that he was actually having second thoughts about sex.

"Definitely." He responded, nodding confidently. Ianto raised an eyebrow, leaving what he was working on sitting on the counter.

"So, what you said about a date…" He let the comment trail off, and Jack watched him step closer. Ianto stopped just inches away from him, a fact that made Jack's pulse race. "That wasn't just you being cheeky?"

Jack bit his lip. Did Ianto really expect him to lie about that? As if he would drag anyone around like that deliberately.

"Of course." Jack smirked, trying to hide his unease. "Why wouldn't I be serious?"

Ianto shrugged. "Why would you?"

Jack frowned. "Ianto, I would never deliberately lie to you about that."

Ianto seemed unsure, and Jack could only think of one thing that he could do to convince him that he was telling the truth.

Slowly, he stepped forward, wrapping his arms gently around Ianto's waist. Softly, Jack pressed his lips to Ianto's, pulling away after only a moment. Unfortunately, even a moment seemed too long to combat the feelings swelling within his chest.

He unwillingly clutched Ianto a bit tighter. Shy, the younger man refused to meet his eyes.

"Ianto," Jack sighed, shifting his hands to rest in the small of Ianto's back. "Look at me."

It wasn't a demand, or an order. Still, at Jack's request, Ianto looked up. Jack smiled slightly, glad that he was finally able to meet the young man's eyes after his (albeit, comparatively mild) emotional roller-coaster.

"I meant it. I really did." He bit his lip, worried how convinced Ianto would be. His response was a raised eyebrow, prompting Jack to finish his statement.

"I came back for _you_." Jack swallowed. "I really did 'Yan. I came back because I missed you. Because I needed to keep _you_ in my life. Everything else… " He searched for the right words. "It's just… Incidentals."

Jack held his breath, waiting – Hoping – For a response. But what Ianto said next, broke him deep inside.

"What about Gwen?" Ianto's tone was confused, almost insulted that Jack would say such a thing. But most of all, he was hurt. It was then that Jack realized.

Ianto saw him and Gwen down by the cells. Shit. Ianto _Saw_ him, and he didn't even know it.

"'Yan." His voice was soft, unreliable. "I-"

"Because you forget," Ianto pushed Jack away, going back to what he was doing. "Sir, that I can read lips."

Jack froze. "'Yanto…"

"Because that's why you stick with me, isn't it? Because you can't have Gwen. I KNOW Jack. I know how you feel, and I know how much you want Her. And you want her more than me. The only reason you don't go after her is because of Rhys. I know you don't deliberately break up couples, so…" He turned away from the counter, and it was then that Jack noticed that Ianto was crying. "That's all I am, isn't it? I'm just a stand-in because you can't have her."

"Ianto," Jack took a step towards him. "that's not-" Ianto backed away, cutting off what Jack was about to say when he started to babble, pacing back and forth.

"I mean, I can understand that. You've only known me for a little over a year, so I realize that there isn't much I can expect in the way of commitment." Jack tried to say something, but couldn't get a word in. "Like with you and the Doctor, you clearly are desperately attached to him. I mean, after he left you behind you went running immediately back to him. Even Owen's been here for years, so there's really no way I can compete, is there? After all, you're already taken, so I don't know why …" Ianto let his statement trail off, when he noticed a sudden change in his boss's demeanor.

Jack stood with his head down, his hands balled into fists at his sides. Hot, fluid tears dripped one by one from his eyes down the bridge of his nose.

"Is that really what you think?" Jack's voice was choked, so quiet that he was unsure if he had actually spoken out loud. Swallowing, he looked up. "Really?"

Ianto stepped forward, apologetic, but Jack was reluctant to accept comfort.

"Ianto, you don't know anything." He practically snarled the last word. Ianto took a step back when Jack's nails dug into his palms, blood dripping to the floor with the tears.

"You may pretend to know about me, but when it really comes down to it, you don't know _anything_. No one does. The doctor Left me. And I left him. It's as simple as that."

Finally, Ianto stepped forward, giving Jack no option as he wrapped his arms securely around the sobbing captain. This time, Jack made no move to resist. Instead, he returned the hug, burying his face deep in Ianto's shoulder.

"Oh, God," Jack still tried to talk, despite barely being able to breathe against Ianto's shirt. "'Yan… everything was wrong. Nothing went right and – I – I,"

"Shhh," Ianto tried to console him, brushing the tears slowly with one hand. "Jack, You don't have to, I don't care. It doesn't-"

"He said I was _Wrong_." Jack's breath hitched, and Ianto felt his blood turn to liquid nitrogen. "The Doctor… He said I was wrong. That it hurt him to look at me – to even be in the same room with me made him sick. And after all that time I spent waiting, just waiting for him. Years and years and decades and centuries I waited, just hoping that he would come back and get me. And the moment I finally find him again… he tries to leave me behind. Again."

"Jack, you don't have to-"

"Even the TARDIS hates me. She ran all the way to the end of everything just to get rid of me. Like… some kind of parasite. It makes him nauseous to even look at me. The Doctor said so. He said I'm wrong – an impossible thing. Then… he expected me to say yes." Ianto raised an eyebrow.

"Yes?"

"He asked me to go back to traveling with him. I mean, after all he had said, and all the pain that we had been through in the past ye- he had the audacity to ask me to go with him?" Ianto noticed Jack's self-correction, but doubted that Jack even processed what he was saying.

"And I wanted to. Oh, Ianto, I desperately wanted to go with him. But I couldn't. I told him no." Jack pulled back, so that he could look Ianto in the eye. "I had to come back. For you. That's what I mean when I say _I came back for you_. Not that I just came back, I chose you. I chose _You _over the Doctor."

Finally, Jack's meaning sank in.

"That's why I want you to think very seriously about my offer."

Ianto smiled slightly, before he remembered one fact about his lover. It was one fact that he hoped to change in the very near future.

"Jack," He wondered. "Are you going to kill yourself?"

Jack's eyes went wide, and his mouth dropped open slightly.

"Because if you are," He fixed Jack with his most professional 'don't mess with my logic' look. "I would very much like to know the time, place and intended method of suicide."

Jack was clearly at a loss for words, as his lips moved in a feeble attempt for speech. Ianto smirked a little more. It seemed he was still the only one able to make Jack speechless. Finally Jack found words.

"What?"

"Well, I would like to know so that I can schedule our date accordingly."

Jack seemed stunned for a second, before he started to grin. Then (Finally!), Jack started to laugh. And it was a sound that Ianto had missed every second while he was gone.

"I love you." He muttered, wrapping his arms securely around Jack's neck.

"Never doubt it again." Jack swore, before kissing Ianto soundly on the lips.

DEATH_

John smirked, stroking Myfanwy's beak. She responded with small, pleased clicks. Then, suddenly, her mood changed. She pressed her head into his hand harder, her demeanor more urgent.

'**Talk!' **she all but screamed in his head. John took a step back, gripping his head.

'**TALK!'** Myfanwy screeched again, advancing on him. John backed away, reaching out to keep her back. Eyes wide, he whimpered.

'no.' John refused. 'Myfanwy, leave me alone. I don't wanna…'

'**TALK!'** Her demand was louder, more instant. John cried out – it felt like his head was exploding – and tripped.

"Stop!" John finally cried out aloud, holding both hands up to protect his face. "Please! Myfanwy – stop. I don't want to talk. I can't talk. Don't – don't make me."

Myfanwy stopped, her clicks quieting. She trilled softly, nudging John's knee gently.

Cautious and hesitant, John slowly brought his arms down from in front of his face. Swallowing, he knelt up, so that he could look the pterosaur in the eye.

"No talking, alright?"

Myfanwy blinked, as if responding, 'of course.'

John smiled, wrapping his arms around her beak. After all he had been through, he now found it impossible to keep his tears in check.

"I forgot how nice it feels…" John mumbled, rubbing his face lightly into her leathery skin.

Myfanwy responded with mild confusion, walking towards him hesitantly.

"… Just to have someone who doesn't judge or question you." He finished. John, for the first time in a long time, let his thoughts wander. Back to before all of the tragedy. Back to HER.

John felt his throat close up. No. she was gone. As gone as his youth and all of his friends.

'**silly'** Myfanwy muttered to him, nudging him into a standing position. With one jerk of her head, she managed to show John the whole scope of her domain. As his eyes followed the motion, John realized what she was trying to say.

'**you can have new friends.'**

Feebly, John laughed.

"You know, If I didn't know any better, I would almost think that you were trying to nest me Myfanwy."

'**who say's I'm not?'**

John chuckled. Exactly.

DEATH_

Ianto slowed, as he and Jack approached the Rift Manipulator. Many bad memories still surrounded the machine, not the least of which was Jack's death, at their hands.

"Jack, I…" Ianto tried to apologize, but his words stuck in his throat when the rounded the machine.

Myfanwy, Her wings tucked and folded into make-shift legs – as they were intended to – stood with her claws hooked into the grating. However, what really surprised him was the human who stood with her.

John's forehead was pressed against Myfanwy's beak, small tears slipping down her leathery skin. He slowly stroked her face, as she gave small, content trills in response.

Watching the two of them, just standing there calmly, made Ianto concerned. Myfanwy rarely ever behaved that way for him. And the only times she did, was when she knew that he had gotten her a chocolate bar. But there was no sign of such bribery being needed for John to get these results.

Jack seemed to notice his discomfort, slipping his hand inside Ianto's as they stood at the top of the stairs.

"I had figured that was where she went." He admitted. Ianto raised an eyebrow.

'How so?"

"Well," Jack shrugged. "I always got the feeling that Myfanwy was more than just a not-so-silent observer. There was this nagging in the back of my mind, that she had perfect timing, even though we had never told her to." Ianto looked confused, so Jack tried to elaborate.

"Think about it Yan." He sighed. "Every time we've come back from a really hard mission, or one of us was wounded, where was she?"

"Right over the front door…" Ianto muttered, then he realized, "like she was waiting for us."

Jack nodded. "Exactly. I think that she can tell. Myfanwy is a Pterosaur, one of the most complex-minded creatures to evolve before the asteroid struck. I think that she has a low-level telepathy, most likely used to recognize the needs of her nestlings."

Ianto nodded, keeping up with Jack's theory. "And that would allow her to sense us as well, being the closest thing she has around here to another pteranodon."

"It's more than that." Jack added. "I can feel her. In here." He tapped his head. "She sees all of us - hell, probably all of humanity – as her nestlings. And because of that, she reacts to each of our pain." Ianto swallowed. So when she had attacked Lisa… Myfanwy could very easily have been reacting to the smallest fragment of humanity left in her.

'the part that was probably begging to die, so that all of the pain and bloodshed would be over finally.'

"She can tell when any of us are hurting." Jack continued, giving Ianto time to gather his thoughts. "And John…" He sighed.

"John's hurting a lot."

DEATH_ End chapter?

Océane: How was it?

Owen: I hate you.

Tosh: No he doesn't. (goes to comfort crying Océane) He's just bitter because John has gotten more attention than he has.

Océane: I TOLD him he'd be getting a bigger part.

John: (walks in, completely oblivious to what has been going on)… okay, that's awakward… (three people turn to stare at him.) I just came to ask Océane where she put the hot cocoa mix…

Océane: **GLARES**

John: (backs away, holding mug innocently.) I think I'll go… ask eyecandy.

Owen: you do that.

John: (starts to run out of the room) Sure, yup. Thanks. Review!


End file.
